Sad Seasons

Cynical Wordsmith

Its like you move the seasons in me
Winter to fall, summer and spring,
Everything feels lost and in between
In this world made of you and me.

I don’t understand the whether,
And know you’ll mostly love me
But it’s so hard to see the sun
Behind clouds so complete.

Where should I go
On such cloudy days
Where love seems so temperamental
And so far way.

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