Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2018
I expel
thin wisps
of cold wind,
smoking breath
that looks like
cigarette vapors.

**** its cold.

I nearly slip
on the black ice
in the parking lot
late at night
cause I can’t
make it out.

**** its cold.

Fingers frosted
till they start to
turn from flesh tones
to a red pinkish hue,
then almost to
a light blue.

**** its cold.

Ears hurt,
and so, does
my chest
when I cough.
I try to sleep it off,
but the sidewalk
is bitterly unforgiving.

**** its cold.

No one ever
looks me in the eyes.
They just walk on by;
Too busy pretending
not to see
my pain
and humanity.
They don’t
drops single thought
or dollar for me.
  
**** its cold.

No one notices
the frozen form
of frostbit terror
and tragedy,
as empty eyes
stare out at
a world
that is colder
than the arctic circle.
Graff1980
Written by
Graff1980  43/M/Springfield Illinois
(43/M/Springfield Illinois)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems