by the time spring comes
i am numb from the cold. half dead
the sun however is like a little boy
he wants to play. now
but it takes me time to defrost
and he stamps off in an angry huff
the freezing winter doesnt recognise
his aftermath in the frozen wasteland
it is a fool who is hurt by winter
and fearfully reserved in spring with spring
it is a fool who mourns the years end
forgetting the seasons and the earth will never separate
and yet, someone said, anyone can be passionate, only true lovers
can be truly foolish. with a foolishness the envy of kings
Awesome as always. Somehow it hits directly home.
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