Alone But Satisfied Poem by Brian Aji

You sit on a bench,
You look out and see
The years that passed,
The ones that were happy.

Leaves are fluttering to the ground,
The woods seems as naked as can be,
Many noises act as one sound,
There isn't much color to the trees.

Not a bird in sight
On this chilly afternoon,
Not a sign of life;
It's only you.

You look to your right,
You look to your left,
You realize the sight,
That the cold is a theft.

How long will this go?
Will it ever end?
The winter is cold.
We all need a friend.

The temperature drops.
The sun goes down.
The cold will never stop.
But you still won't frown.