He wore a purple knitted cap.
He had a carrot nose
This snowman figurine wore skates
with black buttons on his clothes.
His cheeks were daubed a cherry red
His bootless feet looked cold.
His smiling was perpetual
His was a hopeful soul.

Yet now he lay out near the curb
He was destined for the trash
His mistress found a figurine
that had a bit more flash.
He looked back sadly at the house.
The only home he'd known
His colleagues, perched on windowsills
looked out at him alone.

The trash-men came
and grabbed the bags
hydraulics crushed and smashed
One trash man took the figurine
and put it with his stash
The trash man and his little girl
since Spring had lived alone.
It was hard since Emma's mother died
but he tried to make a home.

With no insurance and one salary
his house this year looked bare
Where once they'd had a festive Spruce
now a pitiful fake stood there.
Such decorations as they had
were pilfered from the trash
of folks with little sentiment
and too much spending cash.

In his workshop in the basement
He made the snowman shine
His silver skates were polished
He repainted every line.

Little Emma loved the snowman
When she saw him near the tree
He is no longer called unwanted
since he found a new family.

You don’t have to be alright.
It’s okay to feel like it’s bad.
You can be with a crowd and laughing out loud
even when you’re deeply sad.

It’s fine to be all alone.
Even when you’re with a friend.
They can’t see it, I know, but it’s just how it goes
it’s in you and just doesn’t end.

They say you should just get some help.
But you don’t even know what is wrong.
They speak all these words, but they pierce you like swords
in an infinite horrible song.

I guess it’s just how this goes.
People know but nobody knows.
That the battle inside is not what you hide,
but the roots from which it all grows.

What would you have me to do?
And to whom would I do it to?  
There’s an aching, a feeling, that something is missing
and I’m reeling to find that my spinning of mind
is just leading me backwards to you

Why do you keep away far?
More distant than any a star.
I am seeking to find you, no, to remind you
that I’m still here alone and looking for answers
but just keep on finding this bar

Where should I turn in the morning?
I’ve got places to be, none I’m yearning.
It’s a curse to know that you exist and are real
but not be able to touch or to feel
is slowly, and steadily turning
my limited faith into death

So this is your answer I guess.

In the heat of summers past
beneath what never was to be
I find the memories at last
of distant days of jubilee

The brush strokes clear for all to see
in paintings bright and bold
Of yester you and yester me
before the winter came so cold

When someday seemed forever off
on easy days we thought were hard
While heartfelt moments hung aloft
afloat in absent disregard

I brush your cheek again at last
and shed some tears for distant thought
Of what could have, but now is past
and what should have been but now is not

With no strength remaining here
I pretend I do not know
Someone that was to be so near
but instead was forced to go

To place beyond my reconcile
a distance measured not by mile
But broken hearts and memory
and hard to recall absent smile

I place the flowers
with fake understanding there upon
The ground where I remain for hours
and you have from now gone

With broken spirit I remain
For I shall never feel again
You presence nor your touch
though I call for it so much
Eternally.

Asunder.
Outwardly fine
Appearing sublime
I’ve been at joyous wander

Possessed.
Internally spent
A soul that is rent
I’ve been disguising

Aloft.
Flying high
No limit but the sky
I’ve been at frolic

Disturbed.
Inwardly broken
My spirit soaking
I’ve been unhappy

Who wins?
The outward banality
Or the inward reality
I’ve been at struggle

Who cares.
It won’t really matter
It’s all done but the chatter
Of the blinded crowd around me
Who simply cannot see
I am disturbed