TINDER BOXES

Brittle aspirations
dying on withered
desire branches.

Circumstance's hellish breath
bending heart's pulse
into stagnant streams
while the arid passions
once fed by anticipation's plasma
crack from lack of sustenance.

Eyes betrothed
of suppression's kindling
never post their warning signs
that it is fire season
for their soul.

Merely waited in docile rage
until a word sparks
what will always burn out of control.

Social fireman wander with limp hoses
pouring out trickles of solutions
upon the heat,
but never truly caring to water the trees
so they don't become an inferno.