Gray clouds let lose their tears.
It was cold enough to turn them to snow,
to warm to let them last.
It was a worthless snow.
The flakes were doomed,
dying as they hit the ground.
It lasted less than half an hour,
and did little more than snarl traffic.
I watched the flakes as they fell.
I was one with them.
They knew their doom, as I know mine.
My life is little more than snarled dreams,
and melted hopes.
Still, I loved them for what they were.
Only in my life for a short time,
they made me smile.
Perhaps, somewhere, someone smiles for me.
I will keep on…hoping.
Yes I am a bit whinny and down and feeling sorry for myself. Isn’t that part of what poetry is for?