not finished

Alone with my thoughts as I walk down the cold dark street.
Like a shadow, I follow my breath as I release.
And the white stillness of the snow reflects the light above
from the streetlamps that I know.

The stars smile down from their blanket of darkest blue.
But no outer warmth is conveyed from my point of view.
Like silent statues they stand as monuments to the grave
of the mistakes that I have made.