Cold Fuzzy


The rain falls gently on the roof to remind you of a rainy
day when you were five and you couldn't
go outside because your mom said you'd catch a cold,
but you didn't care. You step outside and the rain falls on your face
reminding you of the day when you were ten and
you went outside anyway.
You walk onto the road and remember the day you got
your driver's license and you felt free, but
your parents wouldn't let you use the car.
As the rain starts to fall harder you remember the stormy
day you drove off in the car you were
given as a graduation present,
searching for your dreams.
And as you stand there, wet with rain, you realize
you never found them.
And you wonder why you ever quit searching.

The sun shines brightly on your face to remind you of
your first crush on the girl that sat in front of
you in Math, but she won't remember because she
never knew.
And as the golden warmth envelopes your body,
you remember your first love and how it felt to
hold her in your arms.
A small cloud passes overhead and blocks out the sun
and you remember the pain you felt when
she told you she loved another.
And as the sun breaks through again, you realize that
you never truly knew love.
And you wonder if you ever will.

The sun sets to remind you that as the day ends, so will
your life come to an end.
And as the purples mix with the reds, and the reds with
the golds, you wonder, will your dusk be
filled with red and gold or will blues and greys dominate
your end? Will your life have meant something, or will it simply
have been a blur of tragedy?
Does it even matter?

Yes.

Matthew A. Burnett