It is cold from top to bottom and your heater broke,
These layers of clothes amount to thin warmth.
As if you would only wear a white beater in the winter,
So you cannot help but to shiver.
Your skin is dry and iced, evaporating like dry ice,
Icicle hairs point north in great hope of lasting.
Even the sound is cold, it sounds like a flock of mice,
They look for cover but you are left out.
Fending for survival you strike a match,
There is a flame of light, a flame of hope.
The breeze teases and it flickers.
Then life is lost in a windy gust of change.
Down the drain goes your slush,
And you think to follow such lifeless motion.
All along you are scared to move,
A sculpture stuck in place, in the frozen aisle.
Time is so cold you think it stands still,
Forever you wait for a glimpse of some future.
Now you are bitter down to your bones,
With an aching chill you would not miss.
You could do without the frost on your lens,
Because what you see is ever so foggy.
Look around once more to the coldness,
Try to unfreeze and keep your heart warm.
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