They are the only ones who guide me. I am the only one who hates them. Twelve different snowflakes with stressful years and a sour taste like lemons. Twelve who do not disappear but we still try. Twelve stupid years forced upon by our leaders. From the hallways we fear them, but our parents keep sending us back. 

Their impact is devastating. They bring mindless work into our hands. They get harder and harder and swallow our time with our confidence, and feed on the growth of our souls without mercy. This is how they grow.

Let one snowflake present failure, they’d all be worthless like a penny in a rich man’s wallet, each one building on the next. Grow, grow, grow they say when I work. They grow.

When I am too weak and too tired to keep growing, when I am just a tiny ant under an elephant’s foot, then it is I who remembers the snowflakes. When there is nothing else to strive for. Twelve who kept growing despite Summer. Twelve who guide me and do not give up until that cap is on my head. Twelve whose only reason is to twinkle and shine.