I beg you please don't take away the light
revealing scorched paths of former night.
Drawing me back from what I left behind
steering me from the jaws of your unkind.
I don’t have much but what I do I cherish.
You don’t have much but what you do I relish.
We both know well the push and pull of pain
but when the shoving starts we take the rain.
You never need console me or debate
the rights and wrongs of living far too late;
of lapping all before us in the race,
or quietly conceding ground for grace.
I want to tell you everything I’ve learnt
but if I do I fear I might get burnt.