A sleepless snowman under the pale moon
Motionless yet flawless of perfect white,
So pure and still and fair, yet thinks too soon
A dream of someday flying like a kite.
His wet white skin of crystals full of hope
Catching the time with winter’s cold embrace,
His world folds up like a white envelope
Fear of vanishing to an unknown place.
A nonexistent heart breaking in two
The rays of the sun carving like a blade,
The stolen smile of the snowman who knew
A day would come when he would be decayed.
There he was, grasping the ground and bleeding,
No way of strength and no peaceful pleading.