and so that was it
we carried on like
spring turned to summer
and we fell
like autumn leaves
and winter snow
cold and bitter
our hearts were
but warm and sweet
our souls
the walls were never
opened up
blown away
like ash and dust
the tiny house
on the hill
with a fence
surrounding
forbidden entry
with a sign that said
‘always welcome’
too tired
couldn't sleep
laying awake
too long
saw the sun come up
it wouldn't last
for you
cold we looked
but warm we felt
your fire
melted the war inside
armour fell through
caved in
like a house of cards
enclosing the life
that once was
and slowly but surely
we fell
like autumn leaves
and winter snow
we changed
the way spring's rain
grew summer's flowers
and that was it
so we carried on
Not specifically for anything/anyone, I just had words. They don't make much sense but poetry isn't about what's written on the page, it's about the way it makes you feel.