Walking Pome

Cold and dark the ski is

Filled to the rim of winter fizz
The trees blow with a swing
All you can hear is there sweet gently ring

The leafs fall to the ground

I look in the grass to see them all around
The wind it feels so bitter cold
That life cued end as we know

The flag in the distant blows with pride

Even as I run inside
The warmth fills me with such joy
Even more than that silly boy

He tries so hard to do his best

But winter really is a mess
My heart so picky it wants what it wants
But deep inside it wants what it wants