Waiting for the flame to catch, <br />watching the match burn down, <br />trying to catch the leaves for warmth, <br />upon finding the match, <br />my sould danced with joy, <br />yet as the flame burns out, <br />i am left with the coldness, <br />i was trying to escape origionally, <br />with the darkness, i wished against, <br />i yern for more, for light, for warmth, <br />for something to save me from this darkness, <br />from this cold frozen frost that has covered me, <br />freezing me to the ground, hunched to save myself, <br />as the clodness infects my muscles, my body, <br />slowly shuts down from defeat, as i see the flame disapate, <br />and the smoke rises from the once alive object.<br /><br />Matthew Boisjolie<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-match-3/
