Lungs warm from smoke
Body blue from winter cold
Every day more strain
Years are young but mind is old
Pain, stress, and hopefullness
Remind me that I am alive
I suppose this is beautiful
Is it winter
Or this season of life
that seems so gray
Color and beauty is lost
With every passing day
Recalling memories, while trying to progress
Constant crumbling of time within my mind
My heart stays heavy just bearing stress
As I stand frozen in thought
the cold air puts out my cigarette.
I flick it and light another
And ask myself, What is this?
What am I doing?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem