people ask me about summer
if I like the sun beating down on my skin
making me ache and burn
forming red blotches down my body
of course I don't,
its torture
they ask me about spring
if I like the pollen floating in the air
making me sneeze
all the birds chirping loud enough to hear from miles away
of course I don't,
its torture
they ask me about winter
if I like the cold air burning my lungs with every breath
wind stinging my cheeks
every limb frozen solid
of course I don't,
its torture
then they ask me about autumn
if I like the leaves dancing around the air
using the footpaths like a ballroom
each step whimsical and elegant
of course I do,
it's beautiful
browns, reds and oranges decorate the sky
turning the world into nature's canvas
an abstract artwork catching the attention of many
more valuable than any money could buy