The winter comes, <br />and with it the renewal of hostilities. <br />The undeclared, but mutually agreed upon truce will end. <br />The weather of spring and summer is but a warm memory. <br />While time permitted, the supplies for winter were stockpiled. <br />Now all the first worlders retreat into their armored citadels, <br />preparing for the coming battles. <br />The others, the second, third, and fourth worlders will not be safe. <br />They will struggle to survive all winter. <br />Most will die not ever knowing of the war. <br />The war! <br />It's been going on for so long! <br />It will be hard fought and bitter. <br />No quarter asked, and certainly, none given. <br />For this is a war of poets, and of poems! <br />Fought with pens and paper, <br />and words and words, <br />and words and words, <br />and <br />words.<br /><br />bob eichen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/comes-the-winter/
