Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Icicles Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Wednesday 11/03/2010 12:12:00 AM

the cold comes down in boulders. Flattening everything in its path. it's only just begun, but i've already forgotten what the summer was. Bent trees with their shadows to impart. let the last of their leaves drop. under the pull of winter's heavy hands.

i like the way gravity is more obvious when the wind us fierce and the ground is hard.

i know the clock keeps counting. but in this cold it seems to slow down. i anticipate the blank dreams of a frigid heart. the silent stairs that escort me down. To where the weather is weak with the whims of the mind. endless blizzards swallow the mountains i climb.

i write down the numbers. a series of devils construct a frozen paradise. i follow their path. chasing the idea that choices exist. and the cold waits for me to decide.

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