haven’t burned out all of the wax
stands strong and burns bright
tirelessly without pressure
letting it flow smooth
surface created from the rough
edges shrink with soft light
shining for all of us
come close to burning out
at times it gets so hard
to keep on keepin’ on
and the bird still sings
it’s song and though the day breaks
the night falls hard more often
than not the same hidden thought
found again returned
to where it belongs…
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