December
It is cold for December
Or is that the chilling truth
You’re leaving me
As you grow out your youth?
I know I’ll cry
I’m sob even now
You’re not even gone
But it still hurts somehow
This poem is about:
Me
Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741