37 - Useful

47 5 4
                                    

I am the frosted ice left after a snowstorm,

The unerased letter left on a chalkboard,

The puddle that cheated evaporation,

And the cracked steel of a soldier's sword.


And you may think I am useless,

For of what help can I be?

But, alas, all the powerless,

Do more than you can see.


For I am why children play in the snow,

I end up dusting small fingers white,

I provide the splash that makes kids glow,

And I resist the terrors of the night.


// The corresponding lines of the first and third stanza are interlinked.//


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