During the winter weeks everything looks bleak so I can hardly speak looking to out-sleep this subzero streak of record lows and checkered toes from blizzard blows the geese all go but I stall froze in this tundra tunnel where the water breaks must be signs of the shovel and all it takes to obfuscate my massive lake's frozen fate and the cozen gate for that chosen date.
I need to erase these bland hues for leaves to sprout brand new to brighten my ****** view like I'm living in Cancun chilling at Chichen Itza chowing on chicken pizza staring at the colorful sky under which I never hide but those are just colors in my mind looking at the bleakness and the grime I'm weakened by this time I need to stay alive to see the days get wide and colors collide releasing me from the darkness fog so I won't be a heartless sod after people start to dodge my evil dark flaws.
Once the clouds split they'll give me a gift removing the **** that makes me slip on the ice all around me covering the water in which I'm drowning when my virulent vision starts browning erasing positive colors and mentality.
This world will be less neutral after my diffused old infused soul find renewal in the sun's jewels creating more vibrant colors than the winter's covers of black and white with lack of light and saddened sight to mask what's right.
Once the sun brings back the day I'll put down my gun and come out to play but life isn't fun living this way.