Winters Bite

A Poem by Tstile

Stay the night, it's awfully cold.
Go fetch some wood, this fire grows old.
Just outside is the pile,
It should not take but awhile.
What's that, you can't get back in?
The door seems jammed, this damned pin.
Just a moment longer it's almost there,
It's awfully cold out, you must be scared.
Where did you go my friend, it's cold and I wish to see you again,
This fire grows old, we must soon retire,
The morning calls and sleep I desire.
Very well, play your game,
I wish no more and I will feel no shame,
Leaving you out to the weather,
So cold it is and I'm covered in warm leather.
The morning is here but my room is empty,
The fire has died and my friend must have left me,
The door is still shut so I open it up, rushed with cold I begin my search,
Looking for my friend who is slouched over my pile of birch.
What a shame, I've lost again, This weather has taken another friend.