Lenses, Through Which

The coffee fogs up your lenses

Through which you read authors

And see my goodness

So softly you have witnessed

The effects of my appalling and awful experiences

Late at night is when you study best these days

And the cold sets in its bitter way

When the winter has its bold say

And the changing of the seasons

Leaves you in disarray

A song, a shattering sputtering peace

A mind riddled with disease

I hope to heal and feel the breeze

Across my back bare with ease

I always wanted the fall fields to flay and roll away

As I run free from my pain

When the winter has its bold

And the changing of the seasons

Leaves you in disarray