cold

So cold the wind howls like a lost soul searching for the warming fire remembered in a dream it calls to me as I gaze from this place I call home the window like ice to the touch snow turned to sheets on the walk so cold how will I manage until you return to the dream to the warmth to the past

Deckard

I began writing poetry when I was a teenager and it truly saved me from a destructive path. 'Time Heals' will be on my grave stone'. I have 3 incredible kids who are the greatest gifts that God has given me. If I have advice to give to aspiring...

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