Poem; Deception

Overnight the wintry cold arrived,
To cover the stones with frost;
Those deceivingly beautiful glimmers of white
To make a stranger fall.

The ancient sun rises lazily on
Illuminating the soaring sky.
Yet no warmth does it offer against
The biting chill of air.

That complexion of molten gold and
Voice of a bird you had –
It claimed a beauty that did not exist
And thus I was left deceived

Inspiring or cruel play on sympathy?

Today I was walking along the high street when I saw two people dressed in matching t-shirts who were holding leaflets in their hands which they offered to passers-by. This might have been something that I would forget about as soon as I walked past, but the unfamiliarity of the event struck me and I was left thinking about it for the whole journey home.