Seasons: The Mask MAG

August 10, 2010

People always talk about my mood swing.
I pull the crystal veil over your face.
They run from my chill, but it's just a fling.
This is a race; you must keep up my pace.

I pull the veil, your lush green hair revealed.
My tears sprout growth, the dormant earth awakens.
Love will soon take flight, it has been concealed.
So short-lived, as the ferocious sun bakes.

My cool breath soon blows on long summer dreams.
Your hair falls out, how evil can I be.
Your face is morphed; you're ready for my schemes.
What you don't know, that was the last of me.

For you are warming, I only ask how.
I must say my good-byes, at least for now.

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This article has 1 comment.

on May. 28 2011 at 1:03 pm
foreveroctober GOLD, Pompton Plains, New Jersey
11 articles 0 photos 23 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Life, he realized, was much like a song. In the beginning there is mystery, in the end there is confirmation, but it's the middle where all the emotion resides to make the whole thing worthwhile." - The Last Song, Nicholas Sparks

Amazing sis. You never seize to amaze me. Another excellent poem. Never stop writing.


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