who

At times we might feel cold inside,
From the day no warmth derived,
A place where darkness overtakes,
The dreams we’re forced to hide,
Can our blood become a river,
That holds only chunks of ice,
Where dreams seem like leaden weights,
And all our tears fall twice.
 
 
Who or what do we become,
If tomorrow seems dead and gone,
Do our dreams go to some hiding place,
Because the heart can’t walk along,
Is it possible this cold can overtake,
The dreams held by the soul,
And if it seems emotion’s gone,
Is it ice that fills the hole.
 
 
Are frozen tears the product,
Of those tears we can not cry,
Taking away the ability,
To even have the will to try,
Our hearts will go on pumping,
Though maybe to another beat,
And every time the tempo changes,
Does the heart give off less heat.
 
 
When the weather outside changes,
Is there a hope we’ll again feel warm,
Or does the heart seem to guard itself,
Against some ever present storm,
Nothing in this life is fair,
And emotions are not free,
The boomerang always comes back,
But from where we can not see.
 
 
There might be darkness all around us,
And the cold might be something real,
But love can warm a frozen heart,
Even if it’s the only thing we can feel,
If we allow ourselves to see,
It’s our minds that make us cold,
And like the seasons this will change,
Warmed by the emotions we hold.
 
 
Though cold can permeate our thoughts,
Or ice might flow through our veins,
Warmth can still be derived,
From the love that still remains,
We can not worry what others think,
Or be overcome by our fears,
Our hearts remain the driving force,
To thaw our frozen tears.

January 14th, 2017

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