Season Of My Sorrow

A season has turned
and I’m found cold
in stories you’ll tell
that I’ll hear you told.
Talk of this time now,
as things change stop
entertaining me as if
I am just a thought.
Gone you are now I’m
not fine I’m sad weep
do my eyes each night
as I try to fall to sleep.
I am a leaf in the cold
in stories you’ve yet told
of how the seasons go
and you do it so cold.
Am I a beast you think
in land of spilled blood?
Say I’m weak I sink deep
do my feet I’m in mud.
Sorrow grabs me down
so I play it with easing
words to capture sight
in your heart beating.
Judge me not my dear
for I am a broken soul
where in my spirit find
the fractures and hole.
Seasons turn each year
tremble in heat in cold
I do both as you speak of
what your eyes behold.

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