Season

Nobody loved the foolish wild thing

Nobody would loved the sensitivity thing

Nobody want to be attracted to a dark angel

 

They will always be attracted to someone sweet as candy

A white angel

Not a used dark angel with walls to go into her heart and soul

 

No tears

No mercy

No more a sense of care

Nothing really matters

 

Death will always find a way into you

Death don't need to be physical

It could be emotional

As again winter fling

Summer fling never last

 

Winter fling makes space for a spring

blossoming love and summer makes for a fall love tale

And the people that do survive are the fortunate

the people that don't will be an a dust until the next season come

Just to have again a cycle

A last chance of hope

A last false illusion

Until a modern fairy tale story come knocking your door.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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