Snow

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Snow

It used to snow
here.

The streets were covered:
you
could barely walk for falling.

The wind was cold and the stars
are
always frigid.

The people, afraid of the snow, stayed
in
their houses.

This world of snow is a world of
my
own creation.

It is a product of my
mind
that is hard to shake off.

It used to snow here
and
one day it stopped.

The warmth of the Sun came from my
heart.

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Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular.

Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC) Greek philosopher.

Ven’s Poems (5)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Conversation 0
The Artist 0
Snow 0
Remebrance 0
Forever is lost 2