Notes on a Fallen Snowflake
The snow drifts down, slanted to the political climate, landing on the dirty streets clean as the moment it left the clouds. The filth soon penetrates crystalline cracks of individuality. It isn't long before the little flake is swallowed up by the tainted slush that waits to be driven by passing cars. In a sad scene that plays out too often in the gritty city, the once unique petite thing becomes swallowed by the junk and is indistinguishable from any of the other mess that gets pushed out of the way so that the good people of the world can get to work.