Snowbound Poem by Dillon Gay

Face it, we are snowbound
To keep warm, we must gather around
The cold is making me rave
But we must keep calm or here comes the grave

The heater is on 'high'
Though 'high' seems like a lie
We may very well die soon
And for that, the primal rage is building up till I'm like a baboon

Someone is missing, it has to be true
But before, I had been wrong, too
It's Roger, where did he go?
'Sir, what's that red spot in the snow?

Roger had been eaten alive
By hungry wolves as sophisticated as a bee hive
Howling in the distance is about
I will be wolves' dinner without a doubt

Perspective: A military captain.