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.