When the days go past,
They are hardly recognized.
While I held steadfast,
Ours were hardly prized.
Yet I took great care and bundled them together,
Warmed them near the fire away from bad weather.
But when I slept you stole them away,
Leaving them outside to die and decay.
All they needed was a little love,
A few small doses would be nice.
Still entangled by your own push and shove,
Not a minute more you would sacrifice.
Dear friend of mine that I still know,
I write to remind you that it snows.
Over the days that were our paradise,
For now they reside underneath the ice.
A small story from me to you.