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Snow and Rain

You say "We're the same."
And I sigh in borderline shame
Is it conceited to fall for,
someone with virtually the same core?

An affinity for deep talk and flowers,
are both entirely ours.
Our forever growing guilt,
is enough to make our spirits wilt.
We're being driven insane,
there's no more need to feign.
We might as well share the pain,
it's all from the same vein.
There's only one little thing,
where you're yin and I'm yang.

You're fond of frolicking in the snow,
while I see it as a mortal foe.
I prefer running in the rain,
but you wish it would just wane.
After a blizzard has been,
you like to build snow men.
In the middle of a thunder,
storm is when I like to wander.
Especially late at night,
after which I'll sleep tight.

You find it far more depressing,
and less of a blessing.
I have to agree snow is pretty,
but other than that it's awfully s*****.
"It's a white blanket of death."
I want that as much as some want wealth.
Yet I prefer the sudden wet shock,
that reminds me of the concept of life which I so often mock.
Snow doesn't stay pure and white for long,
nor does it have a lovely song.


Maybe it even bothers you,
to see a lofty cloud cry a tear or two.
Perhaps I just can't stand,
something that's even colder than my hand.



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