a poem from grade ten, by raymi
The Burn
don’t let that fire dwindle.
don’t let that fire die.
when they come ’round tomorrow,
from hither or the ‘nigh.
you will say you’re sorry,
darling,
you will weep.
and tender, you will not feel,
in your stolen sleep.
darling,
why are you crying?
when you know it’s time you’ve learn
that darling,
you’re not on fire,
until you feel the burn
