I'll start doing these little poetic stories every once in a while, which I will not add to. These are sorta like creative outlets for me.
_______________________________________________________________
The wind was
crying
outside the door,
like someone
begging
to be let in.
in the city
everyone cries
everyone wants
to be let in.
To feel the warmth
of a home
and of a
family.
Out in the cold
this season is meanest
to the ones who have nothing,
so the only
thing
I can do is
tell them
that like the wind,
they will go places
and be free.
