Standing outside and looking,
At the dull grey skies.
Everything dark around me,
Pleasing to my eyes.
The trunks and the branches,
Is all I see.
The trees are all bare,
Without any leaves.
The biting cold,
And the harsh blowing winds,
That make me clutch my jacket
Closer to my skin.
The darkness that prevails,
With a rare glimpse of the sun,
Everyone seeking shelter,
No one out having fun.
The isolated streets,
Everyone willing for the warmth to unfold.
Yet, here I am:
Seeking the cold.
~Sharanya
YOU ARE READING
Thirteen
Poetry" Give me a gem and I'll treasure it. Give me a rock, and I'll still treasure it with all my heart." Highest ranking: #53 in Poetry
