Winter Blues

Barren white landscape

walking in drifts of snow

beneath my feet is ice

wind whipped hair

chapped natural crimson lips

cracked hands covered by cotton gloves

winter’s envelope touches the sky

empty branches nothing grows

in the ice cold snow

except Winter Blues.

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Song of Silence

Song of Silence

by Emily Sturgill

4/16/15

A song that is sung silently

hung like a halo

privately

among curses

among the plenty.

A song that hangs mighty

around ones neck

completely

gathered into a noose

of blood red roses

thorns

a song sung silently

drowning out

the obvious

and the sheer

terrors of insanity.

A secret song

sung silently

hung tightly

upon reams

of unwritten

poetry.