The snow is
          falling,

                    falling,

                            falling
                        in white puffs.
Dancing as it
                     whirls,

            whirls,

                               and whirls
                to the ground.
Creating a land magical and free.
Where there is no pain,
hardships
or dirtiness.
Simply whiteness all around.

Falling on eyelashes
and in hair.
Everywhere.
Blanketing the world.
But, alas, it isn't meant to be.

For this world is dirty
and filled with pain.
It doesn't take long,
for soon, the snow that was once pure,
is dark and grey.

Then the snow in eyelashes,
is replaced with tears.
And the snow in hair
is turned red.
The snow everywhere else,
gets the dirt we try to hide.

The snow is
                falling,

                       falling,
                               

                               falling
                            to its demise.
And still it falls,
to wipe away our tears.
If only for a moment.