Answer:
The snow falls in exquisite flakes,
Each one different, each with its own personality, own story, own design.
I watch as each small bundle falls from the sky.
My hands, chilled from the window, the ice right on the other side,
And when I find my hands are too cold, to cold to hold on to, to cold to move.
I feel frozen and stuck, and slow, I'm useless.
Thing that are frozen,
Often have no use,
It's only in the way
And in time we see,
If nothing could help the ice
Nothing can help me
For my hands have been bitten by the frost, , because right outside is the ice,
which is too cold for the sun.
For I wish that the sun could be warmer,
to make everything bright again.
I know not I can heal this,
So i let the ice freeze,
And I let the snow fall,
But nothing will melt it.
- Autumn Frank
