
1 minute read
Ice Olation
Dashiell Hall
Alone, I sit, staring, stumped Time grows slower when isolated Each second teetering tick in time Boredom’s cold frost sets in Each minute a crime Hours are like an avalanche Each day buries me deeper and deeper Bored under the snow I get even colder The snow around me turns into walls of ice Clear enough to see the people outside They do nothing They don’t care