I snuffed me out / Or I thought I might.

Cross-legged on the floor: burn marks,

Charred / But I

Am melted wax

Seeping into my own /

Damned conscience.

Scorched.

Little boys burn brighter when they / Realise,

Time doesn't stop when you're extinguished.

Nobody waits if you slacken / So

Pack it up, man—

I picked me up / Or at least I tried.

I don't care

If you're burnt out;

Jack, be fucking nimble.

You want to torch this city

Underground. / This time

They will know,

I could not have tried harder.

We are _men of our words,_

But Dad chose the money.

And his _words? _Collecting dust / Under

A stack of radiology textbooks

And the weight of

_Respectability._

And I

I screwed me up / I'm a wretched kid.

I'm going to be just like my Daddy

When I grow up.

And I-

He could've been, should've been

A poet.

But he-

I'm going to be, I have to be

A doctor.

_With grades like those, you're gonna go far._

Then why is he so

Stranded?

_I'm lighting the match._

Jack, be quick;

Those papers won't write themseves.

He says _Apple and Tree_

Is far too _cliché_,

But he knows that I didn't fall far.

Man and son, never young:

Both stunted;

Burnt stumps.