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.