Words they hit me
They bruise my skin
Break my bones

Words they cut me
They slice
I bleed... And bleed..... and blee

We all wonder in the dark
Trying to see the good
Trying to feel warmth

A small red ember falls to the ground
It glows and it gives of warmth
This is how his revolution started
A small speck in the dark

We fed the ember with praise
And likes that made it grow
People gathered as a fire became

People like his light and his warmth
He grew into a bonfire
Though not low on fuel and praise

Our fire has started to wane
Its not quite as bright
Or as warm
But it still changes our hearts

Andy a poet on here is really sick. Though he still manages to change our lives everyday. He's stronger than anything you'll ever encounter. Andy if you're reading this is means you need to kick cancer's **** because we're here to catch you and revive you so you can win. That's what I want for Christmas. For Andy to survive. When he does I will be first in line to say "Andy you've changed my life and I can't ask for a better savior." ---Lukas---

December came on bitter winds,
I sat with frosty breath and frozen fingers
         along the banks of the Clinton River
in the dead of winter stuttering with shivers
     thinking how much I love this cold.
Drank from my flask a bitter searched the white
    horizon for the signal that you were still awaiting me
as I shriveled coldly, doubting, the wind
       could ever cease, or bitter
cold would ever warm or
     flasks would fill
and lied down.