You are Summer,
You spread happiness all around,
With you're effervescent nature,
You go out of boundsDancing and frolicking in a meadow of daisies,
You dance to your own beat,
But you wait and watch till they finally seem happy,
And you'll always be on your feetThen there's Spring who's always a princess,
She's strong and fearless, but sweet
You can see her cry in the hardest of times,
But she'll never bow down in defeatShe's got the delicate petals of a rose,
Which can always melt your heart,
But when you least expect she'll expose her thorns,
She can tear your world apartNext there's Autumn with her sensible nature,
She's intelligent beyond compare,
But when it comes to arguments she had no flair,
Unlike her flaming red hairShe strikes you as the immature little one,
Who only follows commands,
Maybe that's her- at the centre of the spectrum,
But we'll end up listening to her demandsFollowing her is Monsoon with her showers of joy,
Or despair as some would say,
She can blow you over with her theatrical nature,
She can mold emotions from a splatter of clayShe can bring together the world under her blankets of tears,
Hand in hand we would stay,
But then again she can mold smiles with her rainbows,
And pave way for a brighter dayAt the end of the year comes Winter,
The coldest yet most festive days
She can move mountains with her formidable nature,
Yet her loving will stay displayedShe has the power to rule you over,
Change your opinion from scratch,
Yet she'll still show you how much she loves you,
Her warm hugs with hot cocoa can't matchNo season can last without the other,
We were a group of opposites who'd last,
We made the year have its ups and downs,
We couldn't change the future or pastThere was a reason we'd been put together,
To rub off our best qualities on each other,
We were made to be united, to think as one,
And we knew we were better together.~Via
Which season are you? Can you relate your group of friends to seasons?
YOU ARE READING
Better Left Unsaid |✓
PoetryHave you ever felt overwhelmed by the number of sides to a story, the number of words to make up a description or even the number of thoughts needed to execute an idea? Have you ever had the fear of judgement, or been haunted by the thought of speak...