Poor Daniel

He flies too close to the sun and burns his wings.

I witness and give little aid.

For that boy made me dice myself into pieces.

I ask Buddha to guide me.

I ask the night to cloak me.

For I feel shame for bringing pain.

I've given everything I could, yet, put out his flame.

How could I get over his request? His mouth of filth?

Who's really to blame?

If I had foresight

If he had sense

No conversation would need to be minced.

I've pinched your flame and look back with nostalgia.

Soon everything I've ever known will vanish.

So I forgive and walk away.