Sparks

Once upon a time, when I was still a boy

I cleared my throat and stood forlorn and sad,

Because I’d lost the only friend I’d known;

Who used to lurk about the house, inside,

And out, or hide behind the trunks of trees.

All day, he’d scratch and scrape and cause a scene.

*

To my blind eye, it seems to be

Too tough to see the truth be told

I am a bird, so like the owl

My gumption only comes at night.

It ruined me once, but never more

Shall I see red when I am blue.

*

I struck a match to light a mighty blaze,

Not wavering, I stood my ground alone;

A rock, I was, a strong and mighty force,

But wait. Did I forget to wet my wick

With oil to spark the righteous fire of rage,

So I could burn for all to plainly see?