snow day!

Observe: It’s snowing to the rhythm of love songs, To “I love you” and other such things. The girls I call friends are shouting their merry, But I worry as snow angels sing. Consider: I miss the feeling of being important: Of self-assured writing on desks, Of hearing my praises sung by the choir, Of knowing that I’ll pass the test. Instead: I’m set anxious and shaking at midnight, Unsure of my place in all this. The wind whips my hair, and the final note strikes. It’s snowing. I should call it bliss.