Posted in Poems

Warmth is but a memory

The cold seeped in.
It is colder each day.
The fire is dying.
Warmth is but a memory.

I am alone in darkness.
A barrier around me.
An island battered.
Hurting and cold.

A single teardrop.
That is all I have.
Not buckets of tears.
I don’t know how to cry.

I cannot reach out.
I have forgotten how.
When was my last hug?
It is but a memory.

Ice has formed.
It is closing in.
Trapped on an island.
Surrounded by silence.

Trapped in a wall of ice.
The fire is embers now.
How can I get a spark?
Warmth is but a memory.

By C.E. Pereira