Snowflakes have fallen,
And from this white dust has arisen,
A snowman from Hell,
He’s nothing like Frosty,
But still there is,
A story to tell.
It’s said that after the first snowfall,
There is a white cloud that whirls and twirls,
From this he is unfurled,
Then out he steps from that drift alive,
And at the Season’s end,
He bleeds red blood,
When he dies.
Winter after winter,
He always shows up,
But spreading joy for the Season,
Is not his reason.
He looks like any standard snowman,
Attired in a plaid scarf and evergreen wreaths,
With a wide candy smile,
To mask his intentions,
You’d never guess,
That your stockings and yule cakes,
He wants to thieve.
But on closer inspection you’ll realize,
He radiates a chilly vibe,
Like from an Arctic blizzard,
And if you are in tune with your intuition,
Just being near him,
Will cause you to fear him.
He’ll make you wish for sun,
He’ll make you wish for sand,
He’ll make you wish to be,
Anywhere but within reach of his hands.
He can drink hot chocolate,
And stir it with an icicle,
Neither one will drip a drop,
But this is no miracle,
No,
It’s a creepy kind of magic spell.
At a late night sleighing party,
He may seem to fit in very well,
Conversing so cheerily and laughing so heartily,
You’d never guess,
He’s sent here from Hell.
Sauntering down streets,
While us people sleep,
You won’t hear a peep,
As he ruins all the children’s snowmen,
Yes he bashes them all in,
For he feels they’re Frosty’s kin.
He waves about an enchanted wand,
Disguised as a candy cane,
Your Christmas trees he robs bare,
Nothing did get spared,
And if you’re pissed,
He really doesn’t care.
Yeah not at all like Frosty,
This snowman is very naughty,
But since he was not built,
He cannot be destroyed,
Even if for this an army was deployed,
Looks like we’re stuck with him,
Until it warms,
And he can melt,
So keep your fingers crossed,
And hope you are ignored,
Until he melts on the Earth’s floor,
Into a pile of snow and gore.
Original Poems And Short Stories 