Ice Age

As I was walking during the winter snow last year I wrote this poem. Didn't find it until today.

Frozen Earth blinded by ice,

Cold like the Antarctic South.

The future blinded and blocked.

Passable yes, impossible, no. 

Everything is cold, I can't feel my hands.

Home is all I think of, please take me back.

Everyone has a home.

Where someone thinks of you, that is home.

Blurry blizzard blasting bugs.

Even animals have homes. 

Deep within the frozen hearth, is my home.

The End

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