Wither In The Winter

~~~~

In the cold winter,
Dark, lonely and stark.
The leaves around wither,
Leaving alone the tree's bark.

On a chilly empty bed,
The clown feels a drop of tear.
He didn't want to be one,
Yet he ends up being the joker. 

To soak in the light and sun,
For long did he crave,
That wasn't possible in the prison,
His mind, of whom he was a slave.

Turning his face to the bright sun,
He sought a ray warm.
Falling in someone's shadow,
He lost his charm.

Seeking love, the meek little fellow,
Ran out of his burrow shallow.
Sacred of the world frigid,
Scuttled back, holding his life hollow.

What makes this winter long,
Pricky pins, sharp horns.
What makes the heart kneel,
When love is what it wants to feel.

When the smile is rare,
Warmth a bit scarce.
You could be a hare,
Yet feel your speed a farce.

When head winds are strong,
Blowing right into the face.
Be persistent, be calm,
It's a long race.

Soon spring will make its way,
And make you feel gay.
Lost forever will be the winter,
Love it will usher.

~~~~

P.S. It's been a really long time since I wrote a dark poem. This one is for the things which happen in winter. 

Things which make me a nervous wreck and question, "When will I guide my own destiny? And paint the canvas of my life?"