Snow... Poem by Michelle Dickson

I know not how I'll die.
I know not the time,
but what I do know
is that I will die.

It may not be tomorrow.
It may not be next year.
But what I do know
is that there will be snow.

I love snow.
It glitters and glissens.
I love snow.
It's like a blessin'.

Snow is pure.
Snow is white.
But most of all
it's a wonderful sight.

But the snow won't be pure.
The snow won't be white.
Because when I die
it will show a horrible sight.