Think About It, Part 3

By jwhwz •
For, my sister died;
Many years ago.
And in that memory of my brain;
There came much cold snow.
One can hold on;
If one talks through the haze or grays;
Because there are almost always;
Better days.
By jwhwz •
This poem has no votes yet.
To vote, you must be logged in.
To leave comments, you must be logged in.
No comments yet.