The wind getting cold,
his words are getting old,
yet they keep me warm,
a step away from harm.
The letters I posted
stay lonely and ghosted,
in the icy wind frozen,
amidst the lies, brazen.
Your arrival bought me joy,
but just to hear you tell his ploy,
as you held out his resignation letter.
I turned into my own abettor.
Dec 20, 2020
Dec 20, 2020 at 2:14 AM UTC
The wind getting cold,
his words are getting old,
yet they keep me warm,
a step away from harm.
The letters I posted
stay lonely and ghosted,
in the icy wind frozen,
amidst the lies, brazen.
Your arrival bought me joy,
but just to hear you tell his ploy,
as you held out his resignation letter.
I turned into my own abettor.
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