The Front

Can feel the wind, making the house shudder and shake,

Sleet falls, smacking harshly against the walls and the ground,

And the dark clouds obscure the blue sky I’d once felt warm under.

By the time the storm’s over,

The sky has turned red

The air has become cold

And I am trapped inside.

So, I spend my time asking people questions

That I know they can’t answer,

And understanding how futile it is,

I still try to find the right words

For everything that silence haunts.

Outside, I hear another loud, violent gust of wind

But I know there’s no hope that this front

Has brought any warmth…

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