People never cry in snow globes,
or have to get rushed to the hospital.
There are no playground fights
or nighttime murders
or mornings where overtired adults
have to wake up at six
to go to dead-end jobs.
People don't change clothes in snow globes,
and there are no bullies.
The snowmen never melt,
lips never turn blue,
and there are no car crashes.
No one moves—
everyone is statuesque and perfect.
People don't join the military in snow globes,
and they never die in wars.
Children never grow,
their dogs never get ran over,
and they never have to go to bed
or begrudgingly eat their vegetables.
People don't think in snow globes.
There are no countries or religions,
crimes or accidents,
miseries or dreams.
No one breathes or bleeds or hopes.
They just wait, their permanent smiles
plastered on their faces,
for the globe to do a 360 and the snow to fall
all over again.