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Cold - A Poem


It's so very cold over here behind these electronic walls.

Often far less heat behind loving boundaries that I set.

That familiar chill which always blows through,

When my soul calls me to guard my heart from hurt.


It's cold like the wind through the crack in the glass

Listening to the storm of anger around me.

I'm always the eye and the calm in the night.

And the chill from this sky's stars, feels like the kiss I wait for.


I freeze on the stairs waiting for the front door to click shut.

Shivers down my body from the footsteps and the shadows.

I listen for words of warmth but there is just silence.

I wait for a blanket, but get given a winter breeze.


It's icy lying next to you when you're thinking of another.

I feel chills on my neck from your visions of them, not me.

There is shouting now too, but it's only my soul speaking.

So I listen hard in the cold, and know what to do.


When I get a chill, I know I am turning away from a fire.

But embers remain and the spark is still alight.

And I'll wait for a sunny day, a warm hug and a tender kiss.

I'll wait for the melt of spring which surely follows this winter.



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