So sharp I Love how the snow gathers on the Barbed Wire-The snow softens the Blow of the sharpness the the Barbed Wure once had. The tall grass blades deadened by the frozen earth-Moving grass by Waves of Cold Wind gusts-I can almost feel the cold on My Cheeks, the Wind drafting My whole Body, But Alas: These Prison Bars are all I feel-cold glass against my face-No soothing family sounds-only Clanking, Banging, So Much Noise to SNuff out becomes so difficult at times. Someday This too Shall Pass