The air is cold,
As your heart.
The sky is blue,
As your spirit.
The wind cuts,
Like your tongue.
The days short,
As your fuse.
The nights dark,
As your spirit.
And still
Spring will come.
Categories
New Year’s Blues
The air is cold,
As your heart.
The sky is blue,
As your spirit.
The wind cuts,
Like your tongue.
The days short,
As your fuse.
The nights dark,
As your spirit.
And still
Spring will come.