Hypothermia

Sometimes the world is a mystery, sometimes it’s painfully clear. There’s times the world gets so cold that it will freeze up your tears A coat of wealth might protect you, or snuggling up in rich covers, or a warm cup of affection huddled up with a lover. But then there’s those who are shirtless engulfed and gleaming with frost, eyes glazed over and icy, seeming perpetually lost. Some of them once did wear coats With perhaps a logo or stripes But substituted their jackets For 40 oz bottles and pipes A beautiful, transient warmth, in this agonizing abyss. Like a night full of sadness interrupted by a heavenly kiss. But it can’t last forever as glitter won’t make it gold. Because as soon as it’s over, they’re still shirtless and cold.