A candle wick that comes unto an end,
That burnt out quick and left the wax so thick;
A knife that has no power left to rend
The handle breaks and cracks with a single flick.
A useless mind that has nothing to risk,
So spending days among the fields of grass
That itches when you took the time to frisk -
No effort left - so take a little pass.
Be done with what can change the world for good,
Yet time oppresses on the weakling flesh,
A thousand words to write; I guess I should,
The words fall from my mind and in through mesh.
Now take a break or you will end up like
The candle melting from the flaming hike.