A cold oh so bitter
It reminds me of winter's
Sting.

A warmth so encompassing
Reminiscent of late spring's
Comfort.

A pain so enveloping
It hinders developing
And growth.

A joy with such a sweet taste
That not one crumb goes to waste
like delicacies.

Temperaments so fickle
Forming a soul so brittle
Like cracked glass.

A poem oh so dry
It's not even worth a try
Like living.