Cold

Written by: Bruno Simmons

Cold 
 Wind whips by my window, my vision
blurring. How long must I go before sun’s
shining?

The cold creeps through my windows,
chilling me deeply; so tired, so lost,
so tired of being solitary. 

Melancholy and regret, a constant familiar, 
my memory pains me; you are all I remember.

A persistent pain of beauty that I hate to love.
I wallow in my hurts because it is all I have.

The recollections good and bad, seemingly a
masochist I’ve become. I cry and I laugh at
memories, of my moments in the sun.

With your love you brought warmth, heating any
cold. How ironic, I left you, now I long for you
to come home.

Come home, warm my house. I miss you so
deeply. I bereft and alone, lonesome and crying.

My house grown cold, you gone far too
long. At a time your memories brought
warmth, now I’m cold to the bone.

I see you in my mind, as if yesterday you
were here. I cry in my heart; you’ve been gone 
for years.

How to let go, what is the solution? For now 
I live in a never ending, wintry season.