Categories > Original > Poetry > random poems0 Reviews
A poem about the passing of seasons, and with it, our precious time on this earth
across all horizons,
remind me of the times of youth,
of the times spent watching those stars,
shoot through the sky at night,
after the day's snowball fight,
we'd catch the summer blockbuster,
that very same night,
and wake up to the refreshing autumn winds.
Before all that,
Spring had me seeing a new beginning,
like the chinese believe,
Spring has me seeing a new me,
and it all winds down after this snowball fight,
winter, the end,
or is it a new beginning,
I've lost track of the time
But for now I'll just enjoy the changes,
and face them as they come,
For all I have, all I really have,
Is my time on this earth,
marked by the passing of its four seasons.
The Spring of rebirth,
Summer of love,
The fall of autumn,
and the end in winter.
Such is the way time flies,
but only because we choose it so,
and because we cannot return as we like,
to those summers of love
and springs of rebirth.