poem

by Cecilia Gathoni

when he said his mind was made up-
I said please care you never look back;
he said darling, you're still young in years,
he said his years gave certainity, I thought they gave suspicion.

he could have been a farmer's son
he might have been a chief, NO. he was just a brother not even a son
he said, look Jane, look darling how the sky turns red,
perhaps the sun burned up,
remember the forest fires,
anger and passion burns like frest fires.
his wisdom came out.

he staggered to the seatee
he coughed one last one
my mind is made up Jane
I want to be a firefly, I want to be a ball of fire.

He's character, MY JOhn
my Firefly John



(wrote this last week when my one week fever went down, nvm the drug influence to the inspiration, and please don't ask me what it means, I don't know. Yet.)