Her voice is the cold, dead winter.
Her eyes are razor blades of ice.
She is like Jack Frost, only much meaner.
The Grinch would be scared to meet her.
Her words will send a cold chill down your spine.
Every hair will stand on end as her words hit your face.
She’ll knock you down without even touching you.
You can’t escape her evil grasp.
She’ll make you cold, and dead inside,
Like hypothermia only worse.
The only way to get rid of her is to wait till’ summer.
When the sun will shine brightly and melt away the coldness of her heart.
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