The boy carried it in his pocket
But didn’t know of its importance
The object was beautiful
And longed for the boy’s conviction
Snow begins to fall softly
In such a lacy fashion
And the girl of whom the object belongs to
Stands there waiting
Inevitably waiting
But the boy never comes
And the tears that belong to the girl
Match the viscosity of the snowflakes
Which slowly drift through the glittering air
And she still stands there in the cold
Inevitably waiting
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