Life is like a match. It bursts into being, full of promise and light. It grows then. At it fullest and brightest it slows, dies returning us to the dark..
Birth is painful birth is bloody it is spectacular, it is after conception, the start for everybody.Pushed from the darkness into the light screaming and kicking you get handled by gloved hands under bright light.
Then like the flame as it takes hold the young brain sucks in knowledge like the match needs oxygen as much as it can hold.
You see the blue and yellow of the flame grow in strength as it follows its aim. As we grow, we learn and we store the lesson that will form us more and more. Reaching out to light the world doing all you can to live the life you know is right.
Like the match we reach our zenith gold and blue with smoky edges but only for a seconds does that last. How soon our very best is past. Try as we may to keep the light we like the match are loosing it fast. So tailing down to nought but heat like the match we are thrown on the scrap heap. At best we end up all alone or, I shudder at the choice , in an old people’s home.
Sad as I am to be alone, don’t throw me in an old peoples home. I once had so much to share . I am still in here please have a care.
You one day will be just as me so don’t turn away, just harken to me.