It Begins With Snoflakes
Alone in body, not in spirit,
adding another year to life;
and appreciating what's worth:
when others are long gone to rest,
and I am overwhelmed by guilt,
being detached and deprived of their laugh...
It begins with snowflakes,
covering up all that is old,
and somewhat being discarded and forgotten as mistakes,
to bury a nostalgic past: 'till spring, dispersing cold,
reawakens it from its stagnant state;
and with nothing but hope I hopefully wait....
These hands are empty and in need of sympathy,
seeking someone to touch them with warmth; only yesterday
I owned happiness and the entire world;
giving the sincerest love and being loved,
but today the richness I avidly possessed has vanished for good:
and was it my fault to let it slip from my uncaring, weakened hand?
What ends in sorrow must not be considered a dead-end,
beyond a snowy season: there are more seasons with sunshine;
have the boldness to discover them and be captivated!
My season begins with snowflakes hiding, from view, beauty and time;
to make me reflect deeply on those decisions that weren't so perfect:
by putting honesty before trust, and not feel betrayed by the effort...
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2008
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