The temperature outside, below 30 degrees at time,
Is warmer than the center of my heart
The snow of the mountains, the ice on the car
Can’t match the frost reflected in my eyes
The rain that falls, attempting to wash away the past
Can’t cleanse these memories from my mind
This is the Winter
Of our lives.
Soon, hopefully soon, but terribly late
Spring will have no choice but to break through the haze
Soon, hopefully soon, but dreadfully slow
Spring will burst forth its blooms having survived the snow
Soon, hopefully soon, Spring will arrive
But until then, this is the Winter
Of our lives.
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