Hey little matchstick girl

How do you do?

Do these windows fog up every time

You try to look in?

There are thousands of things

You wish you had said

But the glass conceals your tongue

As the snow conceals your smile

The cloud of ash from up above

Traces your complexion

And the silhouette of a roaring flame

Dances o’er your spirit

Though the ice cuts deep 

And its frost coats your bones

Don’t you ever let your hope run cold

Of the worlds you’ve seen ablaze

How do they look tomorrow?

And does the warmth of a rising sun

Make you yearn or wallow?

Your hair sweeps across your face

As it fades from brown to gold

For like a daffodil or a matchstick fire

You endure the toughest cold

And you keep selling those matches

Even when no one buys

For the beauty of dreams that come alive

Remain alight in your eye