The heat of summer climbs my head,
It shows the things I’ve always said—
My hopes, my faith, the truth I keep,
The parts of me that run so deep.
But the more I speak, the more they hate,
The world turns cold when you’re too straight.
It’s built on lies, behind a smile,
It fears the truth and shuns the trial.
The rainy season makes me sad,
It makes me miss the life I had.
The little drops that touch my face
Feel soft at first, like calm embrace.
But then the clouds grow dark and near,
And bring back thoughts I hate to hear.
The breeze that once would help me cope,
Now pulls away my thread of hope.
When autumn comes and leaves all fall,
I hear them crack with every call.
Each step I take, each gust of wind,
Feels like her voice comes back again.
The dry leaves swirl, like she’s still close,
A memory I miss the most.
It’s when most hearts begin to ache,
And wrap in care that starts to break.
Winter’s the season I love the best,
It brings my tired mind some rest.
No burning sun, no stormy sky,
No falling leaves or reasons why.
It doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t heal,
It simply makes the world stand still.
It’s just a pause, a quiet place,
To wait for someone’s calm embrace.
I don’t hate winter—cold and slow,
My soul feels safe when it’s all snow.
I wish I lived where snowflakes land,
In a wooden house, not made by hand.
Far from the noise, the rush, the game,
Away from rules that feel the same.
This city’s taken all I knew,
My thoughts, my peace, my point of view.
I feel like someone pulls each string—
And I’ve forgotten how to think.
