When I am walking outside
on a winter, sunny day,
with the cold breeze
kissing my cheeks
and the birds
singing along,
even I find it
hard to imagine
that on the inside
I feel like I am living
in the coldest place on earth.
The snow is falling
and burrying me under,
the laugh of
the winter monster
being it's company.
The ice from my core
is freezing the other living creatures
that are still trying to crawl
away from me.
They want to have a warmer place to stay.
I guess they are right.
Why should they freeze to death,
when they can walk outside
on a sunny winter day,
and be with someone,
that is still warm on the inside.
I'd like to be someone's
cozy place to stay,
but how could I be,
when even I want to escape?
The cold
is becoming
unbearable.
YOU ARE READING
The Questions (and Answers, Maybe)
PoesiaThis is a poetry book about questions I have on my mind almost all of the time. It's about poetry itself, my feelings, my points of view on some hard topics and more. It's very personal for me, but I know that many other people think about these thi...
