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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #1489654
This particular piece is about the initial dread of winter, but the fun that comes later.
Three days in the sun,
But then the cold came.
Like a rough old man,
Uninvited it came.
I will let him in,
Oh yes, I will.
If I do not, he will fight me
And I will lose.
He will overpower me
And I will fall.
Three days in the sun,
But then the cold came.
There is no more laughter here,
Just the sound of silent, white cobwebs
The quiet blank faces of the devils
Crack my window pane.
He will leave, I know it,
But for now, he must stay.
It is this way every year.
He turns all the lights off.
The black fills my house
The gray, my yard
He will leave, I know it,
But for now, he must stay.
He must stay until he finds a new house,
One which is cozy and warm
There is something comforting about the old man,
But he brings dusty clothes.
After a day with me
He will leave
Once again I will be in the sun,
But only for three days
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1489654-The-Fourth-Day