Candles have flames, and when ever my father gets angry, watch out; his temper can almost bypass that of a burning flame.

My father, slim as an elegant and stately candle

Burns brightly - hot temperament - but usually warm, kind, and loving.

He will burn you when he's angry,

But that flame doesn't blaze too often.

My father, layered and multi-faceted,

Like a candle he can light up the darkness when he enters a room,

Afraid of no one, he befriends all and makes them soon his friends,

Just like the comforting candle in the window, that welcomes us home.

My father, scented and colorful,

Like the after-shave he wears that comforts me and smells familiar,

No matter when I see him, he is always glad to see me.

He is my father, the candle, the warmth, the love, and the comfort of…...
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