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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Other · #2033076
The story of a person seeking for warmth in his hands.

Winter Gloves

I couldn't feel my hands

And so I walked

Into the sparkling

Metropolitan

Oasis

And was greeted by sales

And music



I walked amongst the rows

Of needless items

TVs playing the same

Damn

Movie



And I came to what I needed

In a corner of the store no one saw

And I picked the saddest gloves on the rack

Because I felt bad for them



I walked to the register

Gloves held tightly in my hands

And I placed them on the counter

And the cashier smiled

And my hands were never cold again.

© Copyright 2015 Alexander Holiday (j311yphi5h at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2033076-Winter-Gloves