Winter's Depression
With every degree that drops,
her happiness drains.
With every cold front that settles in,
another ounce of doubt makes itself at home.
Why can’t you see her worry?
She strains to stay atop of depression this time.
But you don’t care–
you don’t understand.
The leaves are her last glimpses of hope–
yet they change, and they shake, and they fall.
Clouds hide her sun, her warmth.
And these crystalized forms of water–
these little shapes of snow–
fall, bringing her strength down with them.
Every bitter wind brings another wave of tears.
Every extra hour of darkness,
allows her to hide from it all.
She can cuddle in a blanket,
holding a cup of hot chocolate close and dear,
watching a fire burn brightly.
But it’s not the same–
It’s not the same.
