Fog closes in in clouds,
The dim street lamps casting golden glows,
A girl on a park bench by a name no one knows.
The delicate milk white snow falling softly to the ground below.
Falling on top of the girl, casting hundreds of glittery delicate snowflakes,
All along her long silky dark hair.
They fall atop her face, melted by the tears,
Of the girl on the park bench, by a name no one knows.
The snowflakes settle softly among her dark hair,
Next to the dim street lights’ golden glow,
As the fog closes in.