Olaf

He walked the earth

in ivory white snow,

taking step by step

with his thin wooden legs.

He tried to laugh,

but the sound

fizzled in the air

turning to smoke,

making him think he was a dragon.

He smiled, his coal eyes

deep with thought,

a black lake that swam with fire.

His nose was the color of

rotten yams, mushy and turning

green at the tips.

He heard the girl giggle

from behind a shadowed tree.

"Do you want to build a snowman?"

Olaf laughed, the pitch off-key and shrill.

He wished he was never made.