Strewn
Chilled, silently strewn over the snow
like discarded timbers no one remembers
left behind dreams no one wants to know
How is it that we have come to this
bits and pieces left about for no one to reminisce
tatters of fantasy abandoned to a bleak winter kiss
Fallen aground
nowhere found
burried on the surface under white sound
no longer seen, felt, or anywhere around
Who leaves us behind so hard to find
without the hope or warmth of a familiar mind
is this how cruel our mothers were, so carelessly unkind
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