Gray skies in August Muddle by as a gust of wind pushes you on You're walking alone The first chill of winter enters your bones But it's not time to go home You've got someplace to go And some time to stow away At the end of this day You don't have a say in what the future brings The ice will soon take hold As August comes and goes The coming snow will cast an eternal spell And as August passes from summertime blues To a winter of truths The chill will still any lingering thoughts of self doubt And you might just weather on Even though the last days of August Are gone
This is my first poem, any tips would provide great help, thanks