"Snow"+"Basement Rock"

I think about you,
when the snowflakes fall,
large and wet,
collecting on the plum tree's branches,
outside my window.

Melting on my tongue,
this snowflake tastes like you.
Sweet.

And the blanket, Mother Nature made,
out of white,
wraps me up, so soft and warm.
I miss your body heat.
I wasn't afraid of being cold.

-Matt

Ironically, I'm in a really pissy mood today, yet I wrote this poem.

Edit- A song I wrote:

"Basement Rock"

I hate the weather,
Skies always gray,
We ran out of alcohol,
An hour or two ago.
I never liked the taste.

We’re bored as hell,
Trying to drive,
Towards the horizon,
Just to get away.
To leave this place.

It’s no good trying,
To wind the hours down,
Until the sun next comes around,
In basements across town.
Singing with the sound.

Of basement rock.

I wonder if it'd be,
Any better in the city.
With all the light,
Sounds and people,
Living like machines.

Another sip of coffee,
Crack the window,
Let the fresh air in.
This is one way to live:
As if we were dead.

It’s no good trying,
To wind the hours down,
Until the sun next comes around,
In basements across town.
Singing with the sound.

Of basement rock.