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A poem comparing people to snow flakes. |
| The flakes float down, accumulating, implying a common theme. One after the next drop the tiny specks; these snow flakes are my dreams. These ambitions lie in front of me, outside in the unknown world. But the west wind blows; its insight shows as my modest dreams are swirled. Individually swept and carried away by a force I cannot know. But through my sighs, at last I realize we’re all just flakes of snow. Each flake, unique and beautiful, yet trivial as it’s created. For soon winter gives way to a warmer day; its stint on earth is fated. I ponder this as the seasons change; this wisdom doesn’t shake me. When the swift breeze blows, I shall go wherever the wind takes me. . |