Low on Fuel
avagatewood139 • July 14, 2025
Inspiration sparks with in me, lighting a fire
The cone raising higher, fueled by desire
Spitting embers of ideas, intents to conspire
It’s so late, but I’m too stirred to retire
I force rest, my flame’s glow lighting my room
I wake and cough after inhaling smoke fumes
It must have rained last night, humidity looms
I sit and hope for combustion to resume
I wait- and no heat, not even my pilot light
I make myself dry, desperate for something to write
Why do I think I can force it to ignite?
I try without it, swimming in spite
I hear thunder warn an incoming storm
I feel heavy rain drops as dark clouds swarm
I call a flood warning, too frigid to perform
I long for the fire that once kept me warm