Submission 33786

by Aaron LeDuc

Cold like a milkshake. Old like a keepsake.

Warm is what is wanted. Harm is what happens.

Being busy in the cold. Shivered shadows in a frozen bowl.

Protecting all we have while we slowly freeze to death.

The empty heads are wanting heat as frozen pebbles strike their feet.

With elbow covered frozen faces the march goes forward toward an ever setting sun.

1 Vote | 91 Views

1
Votes
91
Views
2 Months
Since posted

0 Comments

Responses