Look at you two decades ago. Like the first snow in a Christmas evening. Everyone cried in joy, a moment noone wouldn’t want to destroy. I remembered your enchanting and fragile flakes. You turned the houses into giant sweet Kremówka Papieska cakes. You were why everyone wasn’t scared to believe, that with you, there were no reasons to grief.
And look at you now. Like the coldest driest day in the winter, when it can’t even snow. Too cold that you forget to cry. To feel, to love, to die.