Cold shoulders.

Like snow encroaching quietly
Upon a flowerbed
These drifting cold thoughts fly at me
And fill my aching head

Notions icy oh so nicely
Pile up fast and thick
'Til all is dank and cold and blank
The blizzard leaves me sick

No anger, sad, amused or glad
The landscape empty white
The flowers dead inside my head
Trapped deep- no warmth or light

Without bright hope this slippery slope
Leads swiftly from the grey
Of winter gloom to catacombs
Of thoughts that most would pray

To never think, to dreams and drink
False warmth I'd die to find
Escapism, when one's imprisoned
Securely in one's mind

Until clouds part inside my heart
For one ray of sunshine
That never lasts, it's overcast
Again by evening time

I know full well this wintry hell
Is all inside my head
Yet still my blooms remain entombed
The buds asleep or dead

Though underground, could still be found
And once again might grow
If spring would break, then in its wake
I let my petals show