Winter

We wait in the golden hall.

But then it begins to Fall.

Suddenly we’re in the cobalt blue,

Thinking about snow.

And we think to the last time snow fell fluffy on our hair.

Saying it was so fast, so short, since the last Cold.

And the times were bitter-sweet and luke-warm,

So we take a fine glass and separate the ‘good’ from ‘bad’ without knowing everything.

And our judgement makes the time colder.

And separates those further who were far.

And kills those half dead to us.

Until we accept what was done and move on.

Winter is spent in love or hate.

The middle ground is loneliness, No one to love. No one to hate.

Make no mistake, hate has no place on Earth:

Twitter, especially not during Winter.