The light inside
Of me
Was burning, learning
How to write, despite
The fire was strong
Someone came along, among
Bad choices
Screaming noises

He whom turned of my light,
He led me to fight
All the writing,
Done, on display
He took it, and ripped it away, today
I feel like I should have fought more, war
Should have begun,
Poems should have sung
Several fires would have stung

Sitting here, looking back on what I could have had
Now I have 13 poems
And a fire, half ignited
Could you maybe help me, light it?