Candle

Hear the crackling and pop of the flame
Each wearing their own different colored
outfit
Going to sleep every now and then
White hot
Spicy fire
The smell of a fresh burn
Sensitive to my breath
The dangerous hot force
Beckoning to me
It won’t let you touch it
For it is scorching
But it tempts me with its gorgeous
orangey yellow flame
Standing tall in its waxy body
Dripping its boiling beautiful tears
The candle.