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Aug 2015
Gray skies  in August
Muddle by as a gust of wind pushes you on
You're walking alone
The first chill of winter enters your bones
But it's not time to go home
You've got someplace to go
And some time to stow away
At the end of this day
You don't have a say in what the future brings
The ice will soon take hold
As August comes and goes
The coming snow will cast an eternal spell
And as August passes from summertime blues
To a winter of truths
The chill will still any lingering thoughts of self doubt
And you might just weather on
Even though the last days of August
Are gone
This is my first poem, any tips would provide great help, thanks
Written by
NE Thompson
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