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Weather?

Weather?

Winter has surely set in
Birds have stopped singing
Their chirpy tune
All that remains
Is desolation and gloom
The mountain to climb
Devoid of rhyme
No comfort resides on this incline
Lonesome wonderings
Of the mind
Paralyse the senses
So they won’t shine
A smile emblazoned says, I’m fine
Inside the fight will kill them blind
A rubber band stretches back and forth
Until the moment
Snap...
It flies forth.

J.E.
Photo Credit: Charles Deluvio on Unsplash

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