Thursday, 21 December 2017

THE UNTOLD YEAR

In the dim light of an icy cold day

Winter's breath envelopes you come what may

Visions of times to come look bleak as hell

You pray for Spring hoping all will be well

The chill of Winter's winds empties your soul

In your heart you still feel an empty hole

In the fog of my brain I try to remember


That things may look better from May to September

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