I know, I’ve been burned before,
the wounds that I have still remain sore;
but, like a moth I’m drawn into the flame,
forgetting about all my previous pain.
Out of mind are the lessons I learned,
all I do is pray that I don’t get burned.

The warmth of the fire embraces me;
blocking my view so that I do not see.
Caught up in the feelings of it all,
never to realize how far I can fall.
But, ther is no wound that goes so deep,
as I wouldn’t another candle keep.

Linda Morrow