I had written this poem back in 2014, around April. Everything felt out of place and lost. I still feel like that today. This is one of the many poems that I had written during that time, and it still resonates closely to me.
I've decided to share this with you because I had taken a walk in a blizzard yesterday, and I had taken a walk in the snow today, and it reminded me of this.
The city spent the day inside peacefully wallowing as fresh snow blanketed them back to bed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"One Less Snowflake"
Ice cold, calming, but threatening
Made in the dark for hiding
The beautiful colors turned gray
Hardened with differentiation as a price to pay
Effortlessly impenetrable in a way
Once lit with energy
Nevertheless filled with glee
Eaten up by those who flee
Lost in a blizzard of confusion
Enclosed within everything but oxygen
Feeling nothing but freezing contraptions
Twirling alone along the walls of a den
Intertwined with a blank space
Napping with no sleep but a dream that's a waste
Thinking about the new and different whose voices are weak
Healing a wound that will always peek
Evolving into copies claimed to be unique
Dissolved with muted fame
And isolated to be tamed
Released into the sky and judged to be the same
Killing time being in vain
Aiming low at a single downfall
Left alone with nothing at all
Leaving the world as a piece of small
Bottled up and melted into rain
Yearning for this to be a game
Merging into a thread of a mane
Yelling, screaming, and pleading for bane
Slipping into a concussion of blame
Ecstatic with nothing but a pool of rain
Linked to an anchor sinking in pain
Floating gently with nothing to aim
Sitting softly in a ray
I pass by you day by day
Kicked, stomped, and thrown away
Watching surroundings with sympathy
Impossible to fly with harmony
Touching the uncharted with a complex melody
Hypnotized in a trance of fear used playfully
Not meant to be free
Or drowning in a remedy
The minuscule hope in water and sea
Eventually out of bounds with no rules
Ventriloquists controlling frolicking hot iron shoes
Entangled in labels marked as tools
Numb with everything cruel
Atrocities seen as perfections
Lightly fluttering about with a bounded hand
Implanted in reality alone and nowhere to send
Gazing slowly with no way to mend
The end must come to an end
