I hate when it snows now,
For when it snowed first,
you rained on me
with questions,
And drenched in my thirst
for being a byronian hero
who would sacrifice his joy
for the love of his beloved,
I landed in ground zero;
you exploded with such might,
Now, I have nowhere to turn to,
in this eerie midnight
of chaos, no one to return to.
I just have these slashing flakes
and the cold sensation grows.
Gosh! I hate it when it snows.
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