Some people are like matchsticks

Starting up with a dazzling light

Before flashing and burning down to nothing

A simmering pile of soot

A has been of a never was

And some

Are like candles

Slowly burning

With a subdued glow

Spreading warmth

Giving light

Melting themselves

For your sake

Yet, we let the dazzle

Blind us to the warmth

Probably why my heart is dank and cold today

Rather than a well lit, cosy abode

Strike a match again, will you?

And light up the wick?