The feet that walk the ground they cringe
with what's left of their numb limbs
the grumble of the shovel holders and the rage of the drivers
how mother nature has taken revenge at last
putting her wrath upon us.
But wait!!!
The children they frolic in the bus passenger's devastation
as lovers curl up in the shovel's pain
when cocoa drinkers sip to the drivers rant
and is that joy spread across the caroler's faces
Is. That. Joy........
It is joy..... it is trouble
It is winter
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