Icebergs

A boy in my English class read us a poem 

about living in a crumbling apartment;

one full of books that smelled like coffee

and mothballs. 

One covered in bright flowers that have no scent. 

He said he lived with his mother and two cats.

But they never stayed around for long,

because they hated the cold. 

~

His bedroom was frozen over,

even though there was a fireplace burning

several yards away.

He said, "I guess my heart was so cold,

that it put out even the hottest fires."

~

I raised my hand and said, "I'd like to see you

try and put out mine." 

Author's Note

This is for a friend of mine.