Winter
Dead leaves blow down deserted streets,
my orphaned dreams get caught in the gales of sorrow.
I sit here staring at the bottle,
and wonder if this pain can be swallowed.
Numb to the plastic sympathy of the promise breakers,
who call me friend, while turning away.
I question my sanity and the existence of happiness,
A concept I can't embrace.
The chill wind blows across my soul,
and I burn another dream to try and stay warm.
winter comes and no-one can stop it,
And my heart stands frozen...
waiting for spring...
Copyright © Mordred Sillence | Year Posted 2016
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