Chicano Poet

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Prometheus

She was made of fire
and everybody knew it.

Everything she touched
and everything she looked at.

The heat waves
and mirages.

The ones who caught fire
and wished to burn forever.

The ones who feared that weather
would bring rain.

She was made of fire
and he wanted to be burned so bad.

He begged her for the gift
only to claim he was its sole creator.


1 Comments:

At 4:55 AM, Anonymous margahayuland said...

she took during that game

 

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