Looking to the heavens for a sign,
tears I have but I’ll try not to whine.
There’s been too much snow and my nose is cold.
Winter’s no timeless treasure of silver and gold.
It’s been below zero with the windshield.
Why must that groundhog’s shadow be revealed?
Every year a longer winter predicted.
From his cozy, warm hole he should be evicted.
My breath curls up like puffy clouds of smoke
and my chicken skin is really no joke.
My eyes tear up and my nose hairs freeze
all while the sun is out, what a damn tease.
Winter feels longer each and every year.
That cold, harsh air always feels so severe.
Dark clouds part to reveal the bluest sky
and down come those flake, why Lord why?