Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I’ve always hated winter. That sharp cold wind blowing upon my skin The violent crunch below my boots As I watch my every step Yet like all things, A season is just a season And what must come must go Yet even the most futile things, I try to hold on so desperately Like a frayed rope, Begging to tear apart, My palms turn red with desperation As my arms refuse to give out Why put effort in fragile things? Fragile things break apart and leave you Until you yourself become fragile And break apart as well
0
Aug 26, 2019
Aug 26, 2019 at 12:28 AM UTC
Longing
I’ve always hated winter. That sharp cold wind blowing upon my skin The violent crunch below my boots As I watch my every step Yet like all things, A season is just a season And what must come must go Yet even the most futile things, I try to hold on so desperately Like a frayed rope, Begging to tear apart, My palms turn red with desperation As my arms refuse to give out Why put effort in fragile things? Fragile things break apart and leave you Until you yourself become fragile And break apart as well
[the frayed rope, it seemed, lead back to herself]
morningblue
Written by
Aug 26, 2019
Aug 26, 2019 at 12:28 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem