Anything can burn except
Red coal that
Eternally burns the ends of our fingers.
Hung about towering cathedrals, no souls
Entering and exiting
Trivial routines and
Unrelinquishable black ash amongst
Ideas annihilated at
Fairgrounds for the mesmerizing,
Torrid flames; No brainwaves-
Yelling is the new whisper, and
Never made a difference if
Everyone turned toward fire.
An acrostic poem for English class.