Season of the Virus
Season of the Virus
The seasons shift as storms blow in,
falling leaves, thick as thieves, very bad men.
dawn rises early to watch the sun fall fast,
winded trees, blowing things away from the past.
Winter knows as the snowman blows first light then thick,
Old Mother Hubbard, empty cupboards, dying and sick.
Next seasons breeze an unavoidable sneeze, a virus sets in,
hot then cold, there's no one to hold, in lonliness my friend...
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