Appears like a biting wind on a warm cheek,
whispering questions that have drifted with the dead petals
floating carelessly into the stifling waves of time,
counting days by the rising and falling of the moon,
murmuring poetic verses to the sky
watching the puffs of your breath swirling into old images,
novels stick to your fingers like dirt
can’t wash away the tainted crimes of fake heroes,
a cracked smile bends with the sunlight,
brisk winter breeze billows onto your chest,
few streaks of clouds form a halo around the town,
outside stretching arms fingers attempting to touch
the golden strands of the new dawn,
but they’re just out of reach.
Suck in that crisp air,
And stare onto the horizon slowly revealing itself,
It’s time for a new slate to start.
