Snow, snow, snow. Oh snow I love how cold you are. One touch then I freeze. Oh snow I love how soft you are. I can never make a snowman, I love it. Oh snow I love how white you are. You are almost as pale as me. Oh snow I love how it seems you fall from the sky on December 23, 24, and 26 but never on December 25. No one wanted a white Christmas anyway. But snow I want you to know that when winter has struck and you begin to come down that me and all the other children love you dearly.
Sike
YOU ARE READING
The Rain, The Snow, The Sleet, and The Hail
PoetryPrecipitation represents me in a way that I don't feel like explaining
