June 19, 2011 by altamish
A used candle
That isn’t burning
Doesn’t dispel darkness
Its top has wrinkles
Its wick is burned
It has lost
Beauty of its youth
I think about
My parents
Ageing
Seems they can’t
Provide wisdom anymore
Won’t give me light
The wax is still there
So is the wick
So is the truth
That there is darkness
Still I love
Illusions
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