In the middle of winter,
a boy played in a field of snow.
He built a snowman, made snowballs
with delight on his face.
He did everything he can
to savor it as it lasts.
For he knows that
winter will go, snowfall will stop.
He came across a train track,
in a cold, abandoned station.
Arms spread wide,
he walked on the trails.
He fell and fell,
but it never stopped
his willpower to see
the end of what he started.
As he reached a certain point,
the track split into two.
One, with animals and plants blooming,
and the other, with pure snow falling.
He wanted more snow,
and decided to journey the latter.
However, a sudden urge
demanded to be noticed.
He felt cold, in need of warmth.
The boy, satisfied,
walked his chosen path.
A thought suddenly entered his mind,
“Too much snow is bad,” he uttered.
“It’s playtime with spring now.”
Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 3:09 AM UTC
In the middle of winter,
a boy played in a field of snow.
He built a snowman, made snowballs
with delight on his face.
He did everything he can
to savor it as it lasts.
For he knows that
winter will go, snowfall will stop.
He came across a train track,
in a cold, abandoned station.
Arms spread wide,
he walked on the trails.
He fell and fell,
but it never stopped
his willpower to see
the end of what he started.
As he reached a certain point,
the track split into two.
One, with animals and plants blooming,
and the other, with pure snow falling.
He wanted more snow,
and decided to journey the latter.
However, a sudden urge
demanded to be noticed.
He felt cold, in need of warmth.
The boy, satisfied,
walked his chosen path.
A thought suddenly entered his mind,
“Too much snow is bad,” he uttered.
“It’s playtime with spring now.”
