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SPRING: THE DOWNSIDE
It's spring, but no joy can be felt
by my snowman. Once plump, he's now svelte.
With each passing day
he shrinks slowly away.
It pains me to watch the guy melt!
I know, of course, that he's not real.
My snowman can't think and can't feel.
And yet to my mind
I can't help but find
he's been given a very raw deal.
I built him. I'm sort of his mom!
I molded his shape with my palm.
But spring is too warm.
All that's left of his form
is a picture on Snowman dot com.
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