The winter gloom, takes its toll; as a season dies, it drains your soul.
The green is gone, and replaced with gray; I sink in sorrow, evermore each day.
The snow is flying, to freeze the earth; the flowers sleep, with no rebirth.
I feel the chill, that wraps the air; but it’s much warmer, than this despair.
I miss the days, of season’s joy; with children’s laughter, from a simple toy.
The year winds down, to start anew; but all I think, is will I make it through?
Is it worth, another year like this; to sink and drowned, in this black abyss?
I want the me, that was a happy man; that loved his life, and had a plan.
Not this thing, that feels so glum; who waits each day, for the Reaper to come.
So many suffer, in this silent Hell; the numbers bigger, than even I could tell.
So when someone doesn’t, return a smile; it’s not personal, they’re just fighting the next mile.
Ronnie H. Lee 11/16/2014