The winter months approach,
The sun has given up,
For our cold hearts freeze the light in others.

We hide indoors,
And beneath layers and layers of coats.
Blankets wrap us in the last bits of hope,
That for some odd reason,
We continue to cling to.

The floor has given up,
The walls are caving in.

The crack grows larger.

We will fall.

But surely in the spring,
We shall all bounce back,
But for now,
It's too cold outside for angels to fly.