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.