Dream of Old

Gray somber skies
Interrupt the rites of spring
Lacy curtains of snowflakes
Echoing, forlorn sighs

A barren tree stands guard
over winter’s sudden surprise
Stripped of life, it parodies me –
existing, but empty inside

Time marches on, its song the same
Singing a monotonous refrain
Another day older, a few degrees colder
Romancing death, but in vain

Close the door and walk away
I’m through with life and its pain
Thus goes the futile dream of old,
Sadly, tomorrow I’ll wake again.


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