Cold Poem by Richard D Remler
Cold
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Nights like this are sparse and few,
Always old and never new.
Always dark and cold and plain,
Like the tap tap tap of winter rain.
They bring a wind that breathes a chill,
Empty, sullen, stark, unreal.
In their bleak and dire jubilee
To steal what there is left of me.
Copyright © MMXIII Richard D. Remler
They live inside us, and sometimes, they win."
~Stephen King
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/9/2024 5:34:38 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Stephen King is undoubtedly right. I think that you link the cold, windy nights very effectively with your state of mind: ' To steal what is left of me'. A poem which I like very much.