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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Philosophy >> ID #202705 |
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I'll Get a Candle
We drank as we walked, this sacred man and I. From his wisdom, I hoped to learn why. The drink was causing the flames to rise, and I could hear nothing with my blind eyes. Nor could I see with my closed ears. All was juxtaposed in my prejudiced fears. His words and image became a haze. Were they lost forever in the blaze? What had he said? Please let me know. Don't let it be lost in the fire's glow. Then I heard him speak, and my knowledge began to grow. "Get a candle, my girl, to light your way and keep you from stubbing your toe." We drank as we walked, this sacred man and I. He gave me such wisdom, I began to cry. Out of the flames, I began to learn. That wanting to understand, makes the candle burn. I'll get a candle to light my way, and keep me from stubbing my toe. I'll get a candle to light my way, and keep me from stubbing my toe.
© Copyright 2001 mott buried at work (UN: moll at Writing.Com).
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