Anna's Diary
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Cold Hands

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Cold Hands

Post  Anna on Sun Nov 18, 2012 7:33 pm

The air is warm,
The sun is high,
My soul is cold,
My heart is fried,
I'm done wishing,
Done hoping.

I just give up.

Rubbing my cold hands,
I try to regain warmth,
My friends say my hands are soft,
How funny, when I burned them against the Hearth.

I lay down on the bench, and laugh bitterly.

I stop trying to warm my,

Cold Hands.

Posts : 43
Join date : 2012-11-18
Age : 21
Location : My Own World

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