(My) candle

You’re misshapen now

From years of burning too bright

Your edges are melted and

Moulded through melancholy

Your wick is buried

In solidified tears of wax

So I’ll warm you with 

Gentle contact

With my cautious care

I’ll not be so presumptuous though

As to shape you but I’ll

Hold you for a while

If that’s what you’d like

Keep you malleable in 

My mind 


Until you’re ready

To burn with hope

Once again