-the winters

I know this quasi-poet
a bit weird, but he's alright
wears his heart on is face
a cruel mouth; wolfish blue eyes...                        
                         
dwelling in cunting places
where truth doesn't care about reason                        
tears never have the answers
loves rythm has no meaning...                        
                         
still, he cries for the beauty
only his heart would ever see;                        
it always seems to fade
trickling away
like snow in the spring...                        
                         
unable to understand how                        
or why sometimes                        
it just happens;        
                      
in the long run                    
experience reminds                       
I've never regretted                          
the winters I've known...  
   
-ed