For National Poetry Month

I just saw that someone found me by doing the following google search "poem children are like falling snow." Doing the same google search, I found that no one had written this poem yet, so always being one to think of others, I have done so, and present it in honor (dubious) of National Poetry Month. It is, by the way, tongue in cheek.

Children are like falling snow.

A whisper on the wind brings
small sounds,
Small cold fingers on your face.

Then the next thing you know,
Everything is utterly covered up and walking is difficult.

You clean the children off the paths,
Sweep them from the back stairs,
Watch snow plows push them into place.
Still they keep coming

Three different endings! (pick one, or write your own!):

Until your heart melts.

"Go outside! Mama is trying to read!"

Snowflakes—beautiful, magical, yet deadly.

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