Cold is the sad distance between stars
The lonely feeling from what you care for
Cold is the temperature of what is missing
The lack of warm affection by a source of life
Cold falls upon you when you are far away
The bitter reality of your absence from me
Cold is the sensation of what my body can’t stand and unsatisfied needs for you
The opposite of a fire that ignites my joy
And the frozen sensation that cuts my skin
Beneath my clothes invading my flesh
Torturing bones till they break into pieces
Cold is the thief that robs my hands and feet
The plagiarism of favorable seasons turn frosty
Cold inspires my disdain and fuels my misery
The prejudice of angry insecure mobs
Who reject, riot and rebel against humanity
And threaten to destroy all that brings us together.
Copyright © 2022 Charles Edward York
No part of this poem may be used or reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any way or form or by any means electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise without the written permission of the author.*
- Author: Charles Edward York ( Offline)
- Published: February 22nd, 2022 04:07
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
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