Some days the flame burns
Hot and bright.
Thoughts run fast.
Mouth runs faster.
On these days
Many have learned,
Do not to approach,
Or surely be burned.

But,

Most days the flame does not burn at all.
Not even a spark.
Everything serms cold.
The world is exceedingly dark.
Mind runs slow.
Mouth stays closed.

I will always wonder what it's like ,
to be somewhere in between.