Winter

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Beware, this is a somewhat depressing poem!

Submitted: August 24, 2016

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Submitted: August 24, 2016

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Winter:

Snow covers the roads,

On which we walk.

There is fun to be had,

If only just talk.

But not for me,

I seek no fun,

No play, no attention.

What I seek

Is an answer to my question,

Isn’t it odd,

That men worships a god?

That has never been seen nor heard,

by most.

Yet talked about greatly,

and grandiose.


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