One little snowflake.

Tiny and delicate,

Finding its way to where it’s supposed to stay.

No one knows how long it will take

But they know when it comes they will feel

So much despair it will be feel like being burned at the stake.

“Please stay gentle one.”

But wind slows down for no one.

Silky and soft,

So unique.

It is a waste that you have to waste,

Becoming loss in a pile of losses,

After a while your designs will not be worthwhile.

You will just be part of an ever growing pile,

going on for more than a mile.

Goodbye, snowflake,

No other snowflake could take your place.

You may have lost the race,

But, in my eyes,

You won the world.