Sun stands still
I have come to hug this land
Greet with love, the roughing sand
With my painted veil of white
I'll play with subdued midday light
To caress my children's cheeks
I wish to stay a few more weeks
Yet they hide from me it seems
Throw burning salt, into my eyes
Stomp my skin, the coal does fry
Pierce my flesh, the sharpened sticks
Would I cry away from this
If they would only hear the winds
That do thrash behind the hills
Now taps the rain, and fills me dread
When it comes, I will be dead
I hope you get it is about coming and going of winter. Sigh, someone posted a suicide help number when I posted this poem last time. Is it really that difficult to understand it ?
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