They swirl and tumble and blow.
My mind says they're pretty,
Orange, yellow and red,
My heart says they're dead, you know.
The flowers have frozen, all dead and black,
Where once they were colored and bright,
Now they hang lifeless
From the pots where they bloomed,
It saddens me to see their plight.
The sky is covered by clouds, so thick
No sun or blue skies can be seen.
The gloom covers me,
Like a thick wooly blanket,
With no space for my soul in between.
copyright 2016 Karen Case
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