The young girl looked up at the man’s face
He was handsome and sharp
But vile and ugly of heart
He was pretty in an unnatural way.
“Do I ever get my happy ending?” she asked,
The man cracked a smile and started to laugh
His laugh was gentle like the snow
But not the kind your kids played with.
It was not the kind that fell on your lashes
While you skated with your girlfriend.
It was not the kind that crunched on your shoe
While you sang about Christmas.
His laughter was gentle like snow
But not the kind you build with
He stopped laughing and spoke to the girl
In a voice just as gentle as before, like snow.
His voice was gentle like snow that fell on a house
A house that was in dire need of renovation
Renovation that could not be afforded
As the family inside had no income
His voice was like the snow that piled on the roof
While the parents talked inside
Wanting the best gifts for their kids
On a tight budget for Christmas
His voice was gentle like snow,
More like the snow that collapsed the roof of that house
The voice that could kill.