Poetry in Motion

Winter

This winter
I'll make promises that I probably won't keep.
This season of death, I'll sneak into life
And laugh as others weep.

This winter
I'll say those sad goodbyes
To those leaving, who caused so much sorrow...
So many tears to dry eyes.

This winter
I'll breathe the cold wind skin-deep
Ignore it as it pierces my lungs
And watch as the ruins pile in one frozen heap.

This winter
I'm going to fly away from here
I'm going to transcend from all of this
This winter, I will disappear.

Embarrasingly enough, I wrote that.