Winter blossom
strawberry hues of summer glisten above
In the distance leaves rustle as the wind blows
But far removed from this scene I am
I’m in my world
My cold world
Wet earth clings to naked feet
the sky groans with disapproval at the clouds; close
in this scene I thrive
in my world
my cold world
head bowed, streams of tears devouring my face
my flesh gaining bumps to an inner chill
stuck in polar opposites, your lily to my ice
yet into your eyes you make me decide to leave my world
my cold world behind
poem by Olivia Helmes
Added by Poetry Lover
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