November is the cruelest month
Reminiscence forced of things far gone and
Bitter foreshadowing of what is to come
The leaves have lived up to their name
The trees, a shell of what they once were
The grass clings to its last hope
The temperature makes its empty threats
The beauty of Autumn deteriorates
She is haughty and cruel
We were strung along for so long
But like all good things
Her presence is too fleeting
We try to rationalize her departure
We didn’t need her anyway
Her sister is far more beautiful
Autumn was never committed
We will look for someone else
What luck!
Her sister is coming
Her name is winter!
But alas, how could we love
Someone so bitter and cold?
November is the cruelest month
Joy is attacked in a dark alley
Melancholia does the mugging
Bitterness steals the Hope
November tears apart the heart
With a ruthlessness unseen
In any other month.
The days are soon so short and cold
The landscape is so barren
There is a hint of snow
But it is more like rain
It is so unfortunate to see
Nature’s beauty going all to waste
The thirtieth is here
Judgement Day has arrived
It is only possible to conclude
July was great if too hot indeed
January hard but nearer the end
September its usual lovely self
One month stands alone in its horror
November is the cruelest month
