Some months now I've been trying to figure out what to write.
How can I show people just what my heart is saying.
And then I turn to my right and look at this flame filled with January amber.

The candle light spoke to me while sitting in the dark listening to the ceiling fan rotate letting the flames of fear set fire to my heart.
Scared for what tomorrow brings scared of what my future won't hold.
My life is just like my room in the dark lit by candlelight.
I know where things are at I know that if I take three steps from my bed I'll be out of my room but yet and still I can't see what's in front of me.
I can't see the teddy bears that I know that I have in my room; I can't see the switch that I know that will turn this darkness to light. 

The candle holder is my burning light, melting away what's representing my life line.
I hold the candle in my hand as the present day and try to shift through this dark room alone.  Stumbling, burning myself with the wax and using this small light to go through what I know is there.
I know I found my way out to the hallway but it's even darker. 

As I turn around my room isn't so dark anymore..as a matter of fact I see everything behind me.
But tomorrow comes and I'll b on my own into the darkness and I'll still b frighten of the long hall of what I don't know.
But I look around my candlelight and see the sweet January amber that got me through my past endeavor.
On to my next room.