First Edit: Winter Storm

[QDeathstar]

Winter Storm

Clouds grey as a brain.
Ice pellets fall and shatter
like broken dreams.
But fresh snow isn't nearly as cold
as a practiced smile that covers one's face.

Hi, broken dreams is very tired. I'm trying to figure out why brains? I agree that a practiced smile and covers one's face is redundant. Maybe "a practiced smile that chills my soul" or something like that. I think this poem might be more affective if this was a precursor storm, like the first winter storm or something, could make the poem more interesting forshadowing the long winter... Maybe, also, ones face? Whose face. We should have specifics here, i think.