“How Cold Will December Be?” by Willie T. Cunningham


If I perished by a gun
who would remember me?
If I can't stand that chill
then how cold will December be?

I've done no harm to anyone;
I've never alarmed a soul.
Now these barren days glow
dim like embers from aged coal.

Once trusted by many,
encamped by abundant peer;
now it seems like I've been running
from myself for countless years.

I smile in the dark,
but who's there to see?
And if I start to frown now
then how cold will December be?