Types: Verse, Original
This is the sadness that goes unspoken:
the tears held back, for if they fall they'll freeze -
the drift of snow, its lonely crust unbroken -
the stillness not touched even by a breeze.

Clear skies would make the night's chill colder;
Clouds are a blanket in the sky.
She warms the heart; men long to hold her
Who only see her while they're walking by.

Only she cannot see how lovely
She is as crystals kiss her face --
Unique as those flakes from above, she
Is as ephemeral a grace.

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Megatokyo Writer's Archive
http://cwdb.azaphrael.org/view/907