Snowfall

my crimson cheeks

my eyes that gawk

gazing at the crystals that cry from shock

 

they are all different, each with contrasting composition 

they are all exquisite, they have pattern, despite condition

they are assembled uniquely, even those set in row

because no matter the pattern they fall in, they are now free to go

 

until the crystals fall into the hands of those who will care for them

sometimes are torn away from their loved ones

when you take a handful and play with them

 

He chooses which crystals fall, in the harsh frost

however, He does not decide which will be familiarized with loss

He can not control that, because they fall in disorder

and those who are chosen, are separated by border

 

i know that my service, has done some children well

but unfortunately eternity is a casted spell

 

i will soon melt away with rays of poison 

because a combat boot has stepped on me and I am now broken

 

i am a snowflake and unfortunately because my pattern is altered from others,

 

i am a disturbance in the snowfall