Winter Poem

Alright. Alright. Here we go.

This is a tale, of how she killed summer; and how he let her.



*Killing Summer

Beg for me through salt water
I see them in your eyes

The taste, the anger, the harsh wind of all

The sugar rubbed off, to lend spring fall

Autumn cotton trees, sweet shrivel and shake
Is how ignorantly begot, the frozen lake

Streams and blood vessels
the lifting of relief

On pink leafs they preach
The science of grief

Painting the ground and sky
The brush soon sinks, piercing undeniably
To pure beaut-ti

With a color I’ve seen,
The soil changed.

And dyed itself again, to its silhouette
With balance, and beautiful-touchy elegance

Not knowing, she bowed to a cold scene
And left it to chill
Where the rain’s bow sings,

But losing the warmth, he drew the curtain
Over west, east, in all directions

The fog lost its touch
Lingering past the deceased

Over land supposedly unscathed
The mist had slaughtered peace

And found out they had lost
Tears un-present, and eyes dry
‘Cause summer’d taken them in
When it mournfully sighed

Holding the wind back in its spit sea

She ended it
While he stood by

“There was no controlling it”
Is what he decried

So coldly pretentious,
Teach him why,
And how they killed summer.
Remind the solid land
That its sky was blue ,
And the grass green, and life
A color I have never seen