Message of Angels

Life has lost all warmth for me.
Responsibilities, deadlines, grades, relationships...
It's hard to smile in the freezing cold.
At most your teeth chence and you manage a grimace
That looks like a smile as artificial as the clothes worn
Meant to keep you warm, that for all effort worth
You might as well not wear at all.

Every night, as the air-conditioning ices my sheets,
My troubles ice my insides.
The hatred towards the world's injustice in my soul
Only suffices to thaw out the silent tears in my mind
That flow as freely and cheerfully at the river Styx;
The skeletal boatman, personifying all my woes, leering at me
Like an Inferus going for the kill.

The previous night was different,
For there was one last thing I saw before I turned in:
Your message of angels; misrepresentingly heralded by a monotonous tone
Which of previous occurrences announced more depressing news.
That message was like a drug; throwing me into momentarial bliss,
Thawing my heart in defiance to the icy storm.
For once in ages, both my lips and soul smiled in unision. Someone appreciated me.

It was exactly like a drug, for the euphoria eroded away eventually,
Casting me in further doubt and worry over my mundane issues.
Don't people usually send stuff like this to at least 10 people
Or else all hell shall befall them? How special is this one?
The skeletal boatman loomed into view again, swiping away the bliss
Like a Dementor would a feeble Patronus.
My worries returned as scheduled, dancing to the familiar tune of unrest.

But it was nice while it lasted.

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Wrote that during GP today... got bored. Inspired by an sms I got last night. I'm not a poetry kind of guy; Mrs Cheong never did it for O Level Lit cuz she herself hated it. I dunno how well I did here, but I'll tell you this: writing poetry's a damn good way of letting off steam, no matter how cheesy your work sounds.