Seasons End

In spring he complained It was always way to wet The sound of chirping birds Would make him get upset He thought summer is drier But when summer came it was hot It was a far far worse season At least that's what he thought Perhaps he'd prefer the autumn Cooler air and shorter days Still the problem with autumn Is that autumn rarely stays Soon winter was upon him He could feel it within his bones Buried deep beneath the ground They covered his grave with stones For him the seasons were a problem He wasted away all his days What was gifted was extraordinary Yet it never met with any praise! Written April 7th 2016 For Shadow's Seasons Contest.