Seasons

Summer

I walk through the street, Sun in my face

Feeling the cool breeze fill my lungs with euphoria

Grass pushing upwards against my feet

Gravity trying to pull me down, while I always pull myself upwards

Autumn

I walk through the street, clouds in my face

Feeling the cool breeze fill my lungs with happiness

Dying grass pushing upwards against my feet

The trees are turning a shade of brown, slowly.

Gravity trying to pull me down, while I struggle to pull myself upwards

Winter

I walk through the street, bleak sky raining down

Feeling the cold cold air, fill my lungs with metaphorical liquid nitrogen

Dead, cold grass pushing upwards against my body

The trees are dead.

Gravity has almost won, while I crawl, and crawl

I crawl until I can crawl no more

To die in winter, to shrivel in the cold

Winter

I'm still crawling through the cold grass

I can almost see it

Almost.

Just almost.

Spring

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