April 10, 2011
By Anonymous

It flutters down,
Drawn and white,
A shroud of mist,
Cold and light.

It covers all,
House and sight,
Without remorse,
Frozen night.

It shuffles fore,
Dark yet bright,
It hides us all.
We give no fight.

The author's comments:
At the time I wrote this poem, it had been snowing for four days straight, something very unusual for where I live. The 'snow' in this poem is a metaphor for our habit of changing ourselves to suit the desires of those around us. Like snow, when we try to blend in and become 'normal', we slowly lose who we truly are.

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