Seasons

Seasons.

Seems beautiful, but quite complex changes.

Some enjoy,

some experience or some make beautiful memories.

Always such a comfort when they see real you.

For the existence

and acceptance of a single raindrop

We give oceans of ourselves.

This scenario deserved a cameo,

that mocking tone of imitation scrambled,

less impressive.

I was used to these fistful of raindrops

but when season changed,

It brought drought.

and not even the bucket of raindrops could heal that.

I claim this day.

I own these moments.

I feel you inside my chest.

sometimes odd is even better.

Wrapped around a lamppost fingers in the grate,

pools of ink pocket change.

You're in dress again,

quick those edges are slick.

The comforting moon,

but its time for you to move on.

and again season changed

you are still you

no matter in which phase you are.

Recent Posts