Cold Burn

Her mother told her to stay away from fire.

‘Don’t get too close.”

It wasn’t a problem,

she was never a daredevil,

the fire didn’t call to her,

the warmth wasn’t alluring.

The chances of the flames touching her,

were slim to none.

She stuck to the outskirts,

stood far away from it,

content in her isolation.

She was stronger than the others,

resisted the temptation.

Someone should have told her,

there was more than one way,

to be burned.

It started slowly,

the cold,

then began to sit in her bones.

All alone, she started to shrink.

There was no warmth,

there was no heat.

The fire felt Oh, so far away.

She could spot it in the distance,

its’ red and orange halo,

surrounding the crowds,

all huddled together.

They looked smug…

and snug.

But she pitied them all the same;

didn’t they know,

how dangerous it was?

Fools.

Yes, the were fools,

she thought,

as her teeth began chattering.

The flames were at a safe distance,

far

far

away

but there was some-

thing,

some-

thing

occur-r

-ing,

it started at the t-t-tips,

and made it’s way up,

it burnt,

it burnt,

it burnt.

 

The fire suddenly looked inciting.


 

Not sure about this poem- a big experiment!

Daily prompt: Burn

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6 thoughts on “Cold Burn

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