Poems

Poems are hard to write and I am not a big fan of them. I wrote in a previous entry why I think that Poetry can just be mindless writing and be considered art because of it's loose frame. Of course, the writer will go through many drafts before coming to something he or she is satisfied when in reality, it isn't so great. Over time your standards are raised and you become more particular in regards to certain events, actions, occasions, etc. so what pleased you then may or may not please you now. Here is something that I believed to have been good at the time and still do till this day, sadly, the purpose of it was absent. It took me (one other person helped me a bit) 3-4 days, one hour a day of pure dedication to it, and I believe those hours were well spent, despite the outcome.

The cold breeze unsettling
For too long I've been cold
The cold breeze unsettling
This feeling becomes old

The feelings that I desire
comes from warmth which I have felt
The feelings that I desire
Is why the ice melts

To see you smile, brightens my day
My past failures washed away
To wrap your body, warms my night
In the dark, you are my light

As the winter passes by
As the birds begin to fly
As the leaves fall and land
I hope for something long and grand