Forgotten

I've done no harm in worry. but I see that I'm in a flurry. the setting Is of cold winter air, and my mom is spotted nowhere, as I'd dodged the withered care of one's efforts to spare. forgotten I may be, rotten as a cranberry. I settle none, but sit and watch them have fun. for I have found my sanctuary. on a cold winters day of no way in which I'm to play.