How many are there, alone, on the eve of the most joyous of days. On Christmas eve, in the winter of their soul.
Still struggling to find a place, a family, someone to love them, sitting by a ravaged home, with a fire glowing in the front yard. Warmed on the outside, cold and lonely in their soul, with no love, no one to warm them on the inside?
This I wrote for them, and as a tear makes it way down my cheek at this very moment, I want to say. I love you my fellow man, no matter where you are, no matter who you are, no matter what you are.
The Winter Of My Soul
My hands are cold, I have no one to hold them.
My lips are blue, I have no one to kiss them.
My body shivers with no one to hug me.
My heart grows cold with no one to love me.
My eyes turn dark, my hair turns gray,
I only hope that I am loved again one day.
My body is bent, wretched, and the world looks away,
if only someone loved, maybe I wouldn’t be this way.
In the winter of my soul, no spring can be found,
no flowers will bloom, no sun will abound.
No warmth will be found, when the Earth will surround me,
no one will say prayers, no one will expound me.
In the winter of my soul, I lay among flowers, of leaves,
of coverings of snow, no one comes to see me,
or hold my cold hand, nor kiss my blue lips, hold me close to
their warmth, to say that I love you.
My hands, my heart, my lips, and my body are still.
No one remembers, no one cares, no one comes to see me,
to shed tears, or to say, I always loved you, but was just
too late to say.
Still struggling to find a place, a family, someone to love them, sitting by a ravaged home, with a fire glowing in the front yard. Warmed on the outside, cold and lonely in their soul, with no love, no one to warm them on the inside?
This I wrote for them, and as a tear makes it way down my cheek at this very moment, I want to say. I love you my fellow man, no matter where you are, no matter who you are, no matter what you are.
The Winter Of My Soul
My hands are cold, I have no one to hold them.
My lips are blue, I have no one to kiss them.
My body shivers with no one to hug me.
My heart grows cold with no one to love me.
My eyes turn dark, my hair turns gray,
I only hope that I am loved again one day.
My body is bent, wretched, and the world looks away,
if only someone loved, maybe I wouldn’t be this way.
In the winter of my soul, no spring can be found,
no flowers will bloom, no sun will abound.
No warmth will be found, when the Earth will surround me,
no one will say prayers, no one will expound me.
In the winter of my soul, I lay among flowers, of leaves,
of coverings of snow, no one comes to see me,
or hold my cold hand, nor kiss my blue lips, hold me close to
their warmth, to say that I love you.
My hands, my heart, my lips, and my body are still.
No one remembers, no one cares, no one comes to see me,
to shed tears, or to say, I always loved you, but was just
too late to say.
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