The Buds of June left me feeling cold,
The Flakes of spring had me confused.
The parkas during a time of 30 degrees is a reading for concern all over the news.
The seasons are meant to change but in the most natural way
But the lethargic tree, doesn't have the energy to sway.
The maturing spring doesn't have the sunlight to sing.
Their skins too white from the long, dreadful, winters of decay.
And the Buds of June frail frantically under a sun only as strong as the moonlight.
If a season is disrupted, we all suffer too.
One season grows weaker than the other, through and through.
Summers are not typical as the sun blaires on our face.
The disrupted seasons have only made room
for disasters and disgrace.