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.//
