It was much like a grey ticker-tape parade, <br />...Coming in the dead of stoned frost... <br />Ice chips of memories chill, <br />...Choosing priorities, but at what cost? ... <br />A Given-Gift horse trailed, <br />...Hiding in a camouflaged beret... <br />Trotting herself onto the icy layers, <br />...That created this ice-cold day... <br />A carriage with wilted flowers, <br />...Some already dead from the cold... <br />Traveled it's path along in hypothermia, <br />...In this parade of: The Brass Ring, told... <br />A telltale trace, it remains, <br />...Even after all of these years... <br />It scolds and reprimands the guilty, <br />...With the Grim Reaper, of shame filled tears...<br /><br />Theodora (Theo) Onken<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/winter-parade/
