*Another poem in response to literature. This time Fahrenheit 451*

The north got too cold for the odd duck turned swan

The world learned

 That when the wings on a phoenix got clipped

The world burned

 But hope finds its way into the heart of a scorched man

Take a look

In his mangled hands lay the

Remains of a book

The hound hunted at night

But fire hid during the day

The seashell only echoes what you

Want it to say

Look at the four walls and how they want you to speak

Being offensive wasn't the plan until told to preach

Distractions

Man's first infraction

At the root of the heart lays the intention of action

Passion

Could never turn to ash and

We never want to suffer but want a ticket to cash in

Think of people in statistics and fractions 

Make faster cars but take morals and half them.