Cinders in the Chimney

Cinders in the chimney
I wonder what was burned?
Simple wood for heating,
Or dreams not understood?
Plans that lacked conviction
Or talents pushed aside
Because the system told
Those skills just did not pay?

Cinders in the chimney
So call a chimney sweep,
Or hope we can recover
Those dreams and plans we burned?
Talents parents told us
Just couldn't make a buck,
Can we reclaim them still,
Or are we out of luck?
 
This poem was previously published on my spiritual blog.

 

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