Sep 5, 2018 · 1 min read
Wednesday, August 29, 2018
Cold
Occasionally I stumble across potential
inspiring my youth
a distant fantasy
Though little it lasts
oh, the ecstasy
It's enough to taste
for the nasty, old hag
creeping slowly
powerful and lonely
Making her presence known
Oh-- and I know
No, there is no such thing as hope
in a blizzard of snow
I should've known
Why am I so cold?