Key'd this in the Topical Cypher, figured I'd drop it here.
Note, it's a key, not too much time spent into thinking besides figuring out where to go with the topic. Feed is appreciated and returned.
Topic: That's why I don't like it.
I'm sick of the dry, frigid confines ..
.. Raining pillows of white that continue to rise
in resplendently blinding, glistening tides -
Turning a humble abode into a prison of Ice.
Stretching as far as the distant horizon;
freezing innocent drops of dew into menacing spires;
Children become empty and blind,
wishing and crying for gifts to a guy who only exists in the mind.
.. The season when my grandfather whithered inside.
To the hospital, we became a fixture in time;
Misery became a gift to the mind-
a distraction from the machine's ticking and chimes,
watching him wriggle and writhe -
.. Then lay motionless, & his soul was sent..
another star adrift in the sky.
And the pillows of white continued to rise
.. burying a heart missing its pride
under resplendently blinding, glistening tides
turning our bodies, and this home into prisons of Ice..
.. And that's Why I Don't Like it when Winter arrives.
Pz.
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