Why do I see
the ugliness of life?
White walls close in,
burying my heart.
Dark windows meet my gaze,
denying view of life,
and broken structure remains.
And splinters of wood
scatter across the snow.
Small candles spark of hope,
but cold winds still stir,
trying to extinguish the flame.
And I wait for sun,
hoping to break this dark,
but the night burns across my skin.
And dark road holds to my path,
but I know that I walk somewhere.
And I can't lose hope,
so why do I see
the ugliness of life?
And when will the ice finally melt
from my heart?

Snow Shoes
by, Melissa R. Mendelson