Snow Man

You’re looking out of the window,
you’re watching the settling snow.
Soft the snow falls like angels’ feathers,
bringing your children and joy together.

For they’re building a snowman,
from whatever snow that they can.
They give me a nose, eyes, hat and pipe,
so tell me now, what do I look like?

You say I am always still and cold,
stood here for all of you to behold,
but that was the way that I was made.
This is what I am, happy in the shade.

Then there was a break in the clouds,
and the great Sun shines out loud,
hurting me, until I do cry,
until I melt, wilt and die.

The sun is here and I’ve nowhere to go,
my tears run cold, turned from snow,
Until all that is left is my eyes of coal,
and my hat dancing in the wind, with my soul.

poem by Dale Mullock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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