In my country,
Not all seasons visit,
Except for summer and winter.
Summer burns you harshly,
By hot yellow fire streams,
It literally turns you into coal.
Winter is not that icy,
Few showers fall with some breeze,
But the thermometer can't feel .
Leaves don't crisp in autumn,
I wonder why
Nor blooms in spring,
I wonder how.
My county's tolerant
Yet, they fear to come
My country loves them
Yet, they don't want to.
I wish them to
To call, knock and step
At least for once.
P.S Summer,Autumn,Winter or Spring ?
YOU ARE READING
My Pretty Poems
PoésieA book flooded with ripples of poetry . Simple but nice and I hope you will like .
