Ice-Flakes

I walk at night in wintertime.
A million ice-crystals glitter
Amidst the cracks within the pavement
And the road, coating the curbs like
Rime.

I am accompanied by the latest
Acquaintances to masquerade as
Friends, and I think it sad that I’m
The only one who appreciates this
Dazzling display, now reflecting the
Orange neon glow from the lamps,
High above our heads.

But I’m used to it –
Being the only one, I mean.
Here are little ice-crystals
Embedded in the pavement
For one night only,
Twinkling up at us like
A mimicry of infinity,
And all my acquaintances
Can do is trample over them,
As they gossip about glossolalia.

All of the bushes and the trees
Are bare, and our breath steams out
Before us. I’m dressed in my latest
Evolution of style, already beginning
To disdain the need to make a ‘statement’,
But not quite there yet.

We go to intoxicate ourselves;
To dull our minds and kill our brains
Just a little bit, because it’s ‘cool.’
Self-destruction and apathy are all the
Rage when you’re a mid-teen.

And no one gives a damn about the little
Ice-flakes twinkling in the weathered
Tar. No one sees the little things;
The beauty all around; even the stuff
We walk upon is full of wonder;
If only we’d stop to see.

So intent on self-destruction are we,
We do not see this reason to live,
And to break the bonds of apathy.