Original Poetry: all-time-lotions

Cold

NOTE: This poem was a small part of a newspaper project I had to do freshman year (Feb 2015). It was supposed to be from the point of view of a man in a very small rural town, but it was loosely based off of my own experiences. Now I shall leave you to your reading.

Cold air bites

Windows left shut

Right not to feel droplets thats are reminding of gray skies

A field of wheat Dies as the seasons live on

Light cannot bother to be seen, though it exists elsewhere

For summer is missed like some four missing treasures

Days where it wasn't minded that it was matter over mind

Times when good spirits lasted longer than the tall hours

Now, only a Sick Memory is left behind of the nonexistent sunset

For a sick memory is all she gave me