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Chautauqua Snow (Me And The Snow) by Gian Carlo

It was a white night filled with snow and the souls of those who were challenged by it. I make my long walk to the bus stop, but it felt like 3 lifetimes. Without a pair of gloves to my name and a coat to match it. The flatirons were behind me, but all I could think about was getting somewhere that had a roof, but there wasn't a car in sight. It was just me and the snowy path. I kept walking and walking but there was nothing in sight. The Saint of Death was playing mind tricks on me by welcoming me home early. Death itself is a sick joke. It makes you feel that it won't happen to you, but it comes for everyone. I just had to keep walking with nothing in sight still. My body and my mind started to reminisce the feeling of being home where there is the heat of affection that could warm my soul, but I'm becoming as cold as the snow that I'm walking on. I stopped and stared at the ground asking myself if this is how I go. The feeling of letting go comforted me. I could just lay there and end it all. No one would find me, and no one would notice. It was just me and the snow. I kept walking. I've thought about the people I have wronged. I've thought about the promises that I haven't delivered. I've thought about the unsaid words that I didn't tell my loved ones. This is not how I go. Not this time. I kept walking, because my story does not end there. I made it to the bus stop after walking an hour and a half in the snow, and even though I survived hungry in the cold, a part of me died that night. The world is a cold place. It'll make murderers out of saints. Thieves out of noblemen. Liars out of innocent. This was no place for the soft hearted. I will never be comfortable enough to forget the feeling of being cold and hungry in the Chautauqua snow.

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