A burned child dreads the fire,
They say,
But, as day follows day,
We see that he
Grasps the hot coal
To his soul,
Again and again,
Despite the pain.
The coal burns
And the child turns
Away,
(Perhaps for a day)
Or so.
Yet back he will go,
To that place I know,
Truth to tell,
All too well.
K Morris - Poet 
I really like this, Kevin. Most thought provoking.
Thank you, Robbie.