If plants can overgrow,
Then we as a species are obese.
Leaves make trees more beautiful,
But fall has rid us of all of them.

We are a rotting tree in winter,
And our demons live inside.
Hibernating the fear and angst away,
Since they can't afford to hide.

Everyday we pray,
No groundhogs will be afraid.
So spring can spring upon us,
And feed our many roots.

But Mr. Groundhog,
Doesn't show up.
All he does is paint sliver linings,
And keep our hopes up.

With the sun keeping spring a secret,
That only fools know.