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


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