Funnily I never am, icily beyond
Anyone, your slender kindness:
In your most secret thoughts are things which are me,
Or which I cannot imagine; they are trapped
Your dreamy look will simply endear me
Though I have dreams myself as I watch
You are always by yourself, you see
(Nodding understandingly, unsure) this wild blizzard
Or if your icy heart will desire me, you and
My dreams are very selfish, remarkably
So when I think of this I dance,
The breeze slowly singing;
No, we are not to fly in this winter storm
The angel of your creative mind: whose thoughts
Imagine me in the forests of the mountains,
Following whispers and birds with every step
(I do not know what it is about you that makes me soar
And dance; only something in me sings —
The stories of your life are more realistic than you)
A book, not even a fairytale, has such soothing tranquility.
Poem created using this generator and then edited over and over again for five+ years… I may have a problem.
Through the Dark Days 