The fire burning looked so great
The pile of items neatly laid
She was with eyes closed – meditating
Great changes, wast, she was expecting
First one to go into the fire
Was oldest notebooks – old desires
Then there was plushy – her old toy
So long ago it brought her joy
Then it were dresses, coats and jeans –
Past her was wearing in her teens
Then oil was added to the fire
She said “goodbye” to what admired
Then lastly thrown was old shoe box
With photos, hair locks and those hopes
To friendship she possessed sometime
Before she was thrown out – old self to die
