I can feel it in my nose,
I can feel it in my fingers,
I can feel it in my toes,
My certain end currently lingers.
I've lost my will to fight,
Bitter cold despite my blanket.
Maybe because the covers white,
Not sure how much longer i can take it.
Lost and forgotten,
No idea were I lay.
A rock in place of cotton,
Snow in place of hay.
I look to the Flurry
Contemplating its power.
My mind fills with fury,
On my final hour.
When I try to move all I do is cry,
For when lost in winter your only option is die.
Copyright © Jacob Smith | Year Posted 2014
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