It is not yet spring and I can attest to that
I have slipped on the ice and fallen on my fat
Ass more than once in the past few days
Especially in the morning when my mind is a haze
This morning, however, was a bit different
When I fell I was helped by a caring young gent
He held open the door, asked if my leg was alright
Who knew one of my peers could be so polite
Although this boys actions were terrible nice
It does not change the fact that there is still ice
Under my feet, with every step I take
To and from school, when I’m barely awake
I am sick and tired of this grey winter gloom
And I’m desperately waiting for the flowers to bloom
But it seems skirts and sandals still have to wait
Why must this never-ending winter be my fate?
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