winter can also be quite cruel.
leaving the ground bare, humble, cold.
drafts nip at my skin and quickly retreat,
like troublesome children,
only to come back again and torment me in my loneliness.
it is jealousy.
life is devoid of naught,
yet i am filled with abject melancholy.
i am fraught with forboding and fear to look past today,
for tomorrow things will remain in such a state.
winter! when will you rest?
when have you even shown mercy? shown pity?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment