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Falling snowCold chills my skin,
warm breath hangs in the air
Checking my watch I begin to wonder,
Why he hasn't come.
I shake away any thoughts of doubt,
he'll come for sure he's just running a little late.
As the time passes the cold sinks in,
to my heart and my bones.
The letter from him in my pocket,
grows heavy as my hope fades.
I look down at the snow around my feet,
and as I realize he really isn't coming.
The snow isn't the only thing that is falling.
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