• On a loney Christmas night, I standhere, freezing to death.
    But, I am waiting for someone, someone who means so much.
    Yet, she still has yet to come. My hopes lower, as yet the storm worsens.
    I turn to head bake home. I look down with a tear rolling down my face, yet to be wiped away by a hand.
    But not just any hand, but hers. Her hair blowing in th wind, her cheeks, red a roses in the spring. "Come on!" , she said "lets go in!"