My winter of deception
A private December
Rising to the morning chill
And my words drift away
Falling like so many snowflakes
Their only answer
The echoes of the wind
Find me here
In the shades of grey
You don’t have to look hard
Among these fallen snowflakes














Comments
I really like this alot, one of the few poems that I wanted to read again.
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"Nothing good can ever come from staying with normal people." Harry McDougle
"The Wataro clan must be like the apricot that hides under your bed and attacks without warning or logic." No Need for Bushido
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