Sunday, April 1, 2018

gossamer veil

my heart like the sky
my winter weary mind
covered in white
clouds so full
the moon is hidden
shrouded in mist
snow the least of worries
the fallen snow pristine
the joy of playing
unavailable to me
it is only for children
to be young would be a dream
but the land is forbidden
so deeply embedded
in the sorrow of maturity
we lose our hope
amidst the pain