The Snow

Sometimes I wonder if I’m still there.
If my memory haunts you
In the snow.
Like an old abandoned house
With a dusty box of letters,
Photographs and broken memories
Sitting by the stairs.

And when I think and think
I think too much, it makes me weak
I crumble to the ground and on my knees
I shed a single tear for memories I know
Are dying.

Am I still living?
Do you know that I’m awake
Or does the past only make
You run further away?

I know you filter out the snow.
The dreams of yesterday
When you mark down on your calendar
News plans penned today

You have the things you always said
That you wanted.
No, needed.
You have the things you thought
Would make you smile.

So are you happy?
Or was it something that you
Already had that you took for granted
Now gone forever

Someday an old lady
Will bring me back to life
Through pictures in her head
And warmth felt long ago

She will crumble to the ground on her knees
And shed a single tear for memories she killed
And know that she stomped a dream.

So I’m alive
Even if only for a moment
In the regrets of a tattered old woman
Whose heart never knew again
The true love she abandoned
In the snow.

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