Road To Comfort Poem by kimber harrison

The cold, the heat,
but never the warm.
Comfort is a sanctuary,
a place of sacredness,
a place of structure and form.

But of sanctuaries,
You know nothing of.
Of sacredness
your knowledge is surely poor.
For you own no more than a shack,
with no window,
with no door.

The cold,
or the heat,
right in they do creep.
and comfort,
in all it's cowardness,
rushes away without a peep.

Without comfort,
misery finds home,
and settles in for the stay,
makes itself well known.

No matter the days,
you live in this pain,
you don't get used to it,
just ticked at the stay.

But, you must let the misery go.
Let it go and realize,
that with it,
your march to comfort will only slow.

Fight on, fight on,
for one day you will win,
and you will feel comfort,
once agian.