Am I a bad person because I left you so
out in the cold with your rain boots on?
My old love, my burning flame.
Is it the days that pass away that get you down?
Always crowded around the company of others.
The talk of the town in many ways.
That flameless shame of things
that could have been but died out too soon-
like a candle lit and licked in the month of September
Was it I who licked the candle or you?