I sometimes sit at my desk,
And stare at the bulb,
It hurts but I don’t look away,
How frail it appears,
How frail but how powerful,
Shining in a dark room,
If only I felt like my lightbulb.

The energy it holds
I wish I felt,
But here I am
Burning my eyes,
For a glorious metaphor,
After all, pain is poetic.

So, it is I tell myself,
But it doesn’t have to be
I do this to myself,
I once felt like the lightbulb,
Full of energy and strength,
But now my hope like my eyes,
Burn in its wake.