The Empty House

Trapped inside this broken globe
A flake without a mate
No two are ever made the same
And life's an icy fate

The little house is empty still
And used to all this snow
It waits in silence by the trees
Until it's time to go

But little hands will hold the pain
And make it snow again
The house endures another storm
And prays that it will end

I sit inside this shattered world
And rue that I was built
I wasn't made with ample strength
To wear this winter quilt.