Winter caught my Christmas lights
and froze them into icicles—
now even the cold knows how to shine.
Winter caught my Christmas lights
and froze them into icicles—
now even the cold knows how to shine.
Benedict, the bound jester,
Laughing in a world of chains,
Painted smiles, velvet nightmares,
Dancing just to hide the pain.
Bells are ringing, crowds are cheering,
But he hears a different sound,
Rain, a thing often described as “sad” but think about it.
Is rain really sad? It feeds crops, cleans the earth? Does that sound sad?
Think of it as sad, but if you look, like really look.
Comments
Log in or register to post comments.