Emery Walker

The Months That Fled Me By

This February says nothing to me.

The same way January and December

Have given me little importance.

I felt as the days bled together from November through those cold months.

I’ve lived my days despondently,

Waiting for something exciting to happen

While I slept my life away in bed.

I spent those days watching the sun rise,

Building up a life outside my window,

Just for the moon to come and to try again next time.

But one day, life will open to me like a pack of Malboro Golds.