Snow smothers the hillside, icy white coat:
The chill has buried itself in my bones-
Almost like an ache-with no antidote.
I lie in bed listening to the tones

Of the city outside of my window,
Not wanting to move, to get up, go on.
Weary of the constant stumbles, I know
Will never end. Not until I am gone.

But that- that is the most important part.
We learn from every misstep, mistake.
So I pull myself from bed with all my heart
And fight for better ev’ry day I wake.

I’ll fight with ev’ry last ounce of strength, it’s true-
I am human. It’s all I can do.

• Poetry