Warm

There's a pulse,

it's cold outside
put a fire in the place
Racing to and fro
leaves a trail in haste
When rather walk to not disturb,
leaving better than when found
Around the world us earthly kin
our sentence we are bound

The fire keeps me warm tonight,
upon my throne, the couch
Beer at hand and cat held tight
and writing with a slouch

The old nemesis, myself
reminds me I destroy
No matter books upon the shelf,
this shell is but a toy

I think I'll write until I can't,
these bits will fade away
And if we all don't make it there,
At least we've lived today

Some poets just suck.
But at least I have a fire.