while imagining . anything is possible . reality waits
worn out and broken . important warning signals . have been tossed aside
cold enough to freeze . winter creates a surface . not safe to walk on
we don’t realize . just how fragile something is . until it’s too late
most of history . is forgotten, even though . much is still the same
trying to fit in . the facade only reveals . that something does not
the world we can see . looking through frosted windows . seems almost perfect
it isn’t having . too little, it’s not sharing . when we have too much
it might be shocking . to see the actual face . of our inner voice
a fresh fallen snow . will gather on surfaces . we’ve never noticed