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What am I
I am the bitter chill in the morning.
Among the unmoving grass I will sit
With cold stare to freeze the sky mourning
And let the mark of the bitter sweetness hit.
In the biting air I will hide with cunning
But then will spring when you’re least expecting.
Then to nip until your nose is running
Hate me now, but love me when reflecting
You may love me, from the sky I spill down.
Becoming more than the hell some believe
For when you ride on my back, that harsh frown
Will fade. From then on the sorrow will leave
Only the sparkling wonderland will show
I am winter, and that you should all know.