Why The Snow Melts
Hiding my sight
Behind the collective shadows
Of falling snowflakes.
Staring at the overcast,
Reflected on the ice.
Grey, except for the sky scrapers
Blinking their exit signs
In the frozen wake.
At the bars,
Faces scowl their wrinkles of shame.
Like the lovers they fantasize about.
In nostalgic taste
That resembles whiskey.
I’m not hiding.
This is capitalism.
This is holiday cheer.
As the children
Are wishing for greed.
I’ll do the same.
The differences that come with age
Are cursed by experience.
I lust for the ignorance and curiosity
Rather than the knowledge of existence
And why the snow melts.
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