SNOWGLOBE MEMORIES
I press my face against the glass,
My reflection glimmers and at last
I feel the warmth, the outer glow
Something, anything, other than snow.
I look out into the beyond
I see a fireplace, hear a song.
Sometimes I wish that was me
With a gift, a home, a tree.
Alas, that wasn't in my cards,
No place for a snowman in their hearts.
The way I melt shall be artistic,
Outside the globe is simply...
Mystic
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