I need to pick a season
A season that I like,
Need to stick with it
And stay with it,
The choice that I arrive.
It's hard to have a favourite
When all seasons are sweet,
Snow-fall, sunny rays and rainy days,
All are trying to compete.
But monsoon never comes too soon,
Winter stays for four full moons
And summer is always unpredictable;
Shines bright to burn me down
Or never enough to blind me out.
With summer comes he
With blasting A/C and an LIT,
Bronze skin and bright smile,
Bottomless pitchers and endless miles.
Monsoon is an affair
With books and solitude;
Too much black coffee
And burnt-out candles,
And an independent attitude.
Alas, winter brings with it a longing
for someone who is never corresponding,
Craving him to keep me warm
But he was never mine to belong.
These seasons have a preference instead
They chose their people with actions unsaid.
It's fine I didn't get to pick my favourite season,
I guess I would never know,
Some things happen for a reason.