The caged animals used to sing
A song so sweet in every spring
Where birds chirp happily
And everyone would dance joyfully.

On winter, a single voice hums
Appears when December comes
Nobody dares to contradict
The said voice ever so sweet.

I know why they're not singers
During the scorching hot summers
Where everything is too dry
Not even a single animal could cry.

Autumn, the season of ordinary
Yet at the same time extraordinary.
Falling leaves of red, orange and yellow
The melody of their songs very mellow.

On the days where we feel so down
And no one can replace our frown
As the night becomes day
Everything seems astray.

Of all the things we've done
And all the things that are gone
I have no clue as to what
I wish to do with that.

A single action made it worse
As it is already coarse
All of the times you spoke
And all of the times you provoked.

Outrage and terrifying experiences
Of whatever that is
Under your command,
Under your simple stand.

All of the things you have done
A thing to be said undone
On the days where we wear masks
On the day where he asks,

What have you done?