Snow hits the icy ground, As, on the pond, she glides around. Why is it so nice, How beautiful she looks on the ice? I dare not make a sound. For I am, obviously, spellbound. By her, breathtaking, beauty. As she glares at me; as usual, snooty. When I notice I notice, I am confound, As I remember a time I hated her year round. For she has been stuck up, since we were small. I think as I make a snowball, Then throw it at her, face bound. Afterwards her butt hit the ice with a pound. She then yells at me. As I just, pathetically, flee.

As I lay on my horn, My patience becomes worn. I honk again, at the traffic congestion. This time it’s not a suggestion. The motorcyclist, in front of me, just flips me off. I just narrow my eyes and, under my breath, call him a jerk-off. Then checking the time on my smartphone, “I’m late for work,” I groan. I shouldn’t be worried; though, My phone then dies so, calling work now is a no-go. So, now all I can do is sit here in this traffic jam. Damn.

I’m falling I start bawling. I hit the ground As my head feels a big pound. Waking up with a jolt I get up and lock the deadbolt. But, I can’t escape The man in the cape, As I turn around There he stands, dressed as a clown. He grabs me roughly And whisper’s gruffly, “You’re still not awake?” As I just shake.