January 2, 2008

He stood in the cold,
Alone and bold.
He had a round head,
Like a pig, from the story I read.
I gave him a warm sweater,
That made him feel better.
The Sun rose,
And it shone upon his nose,
Which made him cry,
Through the little eye.
As his eyes cried,
His body cried.
As his body cried,
He tried,
Not to disappear,
Into the near,
Where the snows melted,
Into the ground.

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