Frosty December

A found poem combining Linkin Park, Taylor Swift, and Katy Perry song titles. A bit nonsensical, perhaps, but a poem all the same! Italicized words denote song titles.

As a response to Poetry 101 Rehab.

The second I saw you

I knew you were trouble

You made me shiver, quiver,

And go numb with your iciness

Like I had gone back to December.

The little things give you away,

Like your mean and haughty ways

A frosty voltage goes down my spine,

When you roar in your arctic voice.

You are like my December.

blank space looms overhead

To be filled by troubles like a dark horse

You make me feel faint from the inside

I’ve given up my hopes for change.

But does this even matter in the end?

You are my frosty December…



Blushing cheek and artificially dimpled chins,

Rosy lips and pearly teeth within,

Curly blonde hair and very fair,

Her eyes are blue and shaded too.

See her as she flaunts her designer clothes,

On the way to the mall.

Ignoring friendly hellos and wishes,

Blatant disregard for a small child in rags on the road,

The poor, stoned dog lying in the winter cold.

Laughing mouth with uneven teeth,

Beauty shining from her brown eyes,

Goes the black-haired woman.

Calling out to friends, foes, and strangers alike,

With a cheery deposition and friendly smile.

Dropping a lost beggar-girl in an orphanage,

Buying a loaf of bread for a dog out in the cold,

All while on the way to work.

Skin-deep beauty makes other people love you,

A beautiful heart makes you love yourself.

My stereotypical poem takes its inspiration from Mara Eastern’s Poetry 101 Rehab – Skin Hopefully, all my beautiful blogosphere friends won’t take offence at my use of the coventional stereotypes!!!

Foggy Memories



Cruel, cold, and frosty was how you were,

When we parted.

I hardly remember anything of that fateful day,

My memories foggy with time.

Unwillingly do I think about you now,

For you hinder my vision,

Suffocating me and blurring my eyes from seeing clearly,

You do more harm than good.

Hazy and misty are my thoughts about you,

Dulled and diminished.

Time is indeed a thief, for it has stolen,

Whatever I had left of you.

For Writing 201: Poetry