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Mar 2013
Fluffy white pillows, and blankets, and fur.
All the little snowflake could remember seeing,
For time immemorial.
Snow capped peaks in the distance,
Frost bitten air tickling its nose.
High hopes, much promise.
The snowflake was instilled with a warm,
Fuzzy feeling that was unique,
And untouchable.

The snowflake felt infinite.
It's brothers and sisters,
Falling around,
Like a mother coddling her kittens.

White was pure,
White was beautiful,
White was love.

But good things don't last forever.
Grey ash drifted down,
Antagonists in a dreary play.
Sweltering sun came out to say,
You can't have it all.

Grey is weary,
Grey is sad,
Grey is tired.

As the snowflake started to drip,
And melt like cursed Popsicles,
It though of the time,
When it felt so pretty and unique,
But alas~ it now understood,

That none of us are unique.
We are all melting snowflakes,
And broken hearts,
And dying lungs.
All the same; typecasts.
We all melt away.
Written by
brea  Somewhere
(Somewhere)   
890
   Captain and ---
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