The blizzards of snow, falling straight to the ground,
circle in the wind and block out the sound,
burning my skin and freezing my soul,
yes the winter has taken it's toll.

The dead trees that shed their leaves, I only see a reflection of me,
but no one thinks to dress me up with light.
While the nights are going strong, the drunkards belt out their yuletide songs,
the added up years have turned the phrases trite.

And all those lost souls were tracing angels of the snow,
Using chalk though the white blended in too well.
Seeing the indent and questioning how far it did go,
If this unknowing snow angel had made it's way to Hell.