The ground has turned cold
And you were not here to see,
the beauty of
the winter
and it's majesty.
You have been taken
by a mystery far above.
But I hope you still have winter there,
and maybe even snow.
But here we will miss you,
your cheesy presents,
wrapped in cheesy paper.
I'll miss your holiday spirit,
and your joy that you were living.
But you are gone now,
naken by sickness.
But all I can think about is,
this is our first winter in which
you weren't there to see.
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC
The ground has turned cold
And you were not here to see,
the beauty of
the winter
and it's majesty.
You have been taken
by a mystery far above.
But I hope you still have winter there,
and maybe even snow.
But here we will miss you,
your cheesy presents,
wrapped in cheesy paper.
I'll miss your holiday spirit,
and your joy that you were living.
But you are gone now,
naken by sickness.
But all I can think about is,
this is our first winter in which
you weren't there to see.