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Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #1571589
The Weather, by T. J.

Weather, O weather, did you arrive or will you ever
whether your spring is here or the winter, as ever
My heart lived it to the utmost, in agony however
thus, come or go, sweet or bitter, or just whatsoever
Useless to pass life with you, moron to be or a clever
O weather of memories, to forget you I shall do, never

And when the melodies play amid the noises of music
shall I count the years when I became healthfully sick
Large is the space under this weather, but of many a brick
and freedom is within your reach but shall I sacrifice my neck?
O weather of wonders, corrupted my life with just a flick
away or near, with peace and fear, my mind you did kick

Bring your roses and blosoms, or the dust of age
fearsome shall not be, and there shall I be on a stage
When the applause raise up, that shall be my own wage
and certainly, away from you I am going to break the cage
So stop the seduction, and the calls of love on a new page
here is my way up to the hill, whether or not I am a sage

Oh my, am I crazy to talk to the weather of springs?
my thoughts are racing through faster than wings
What am I saying? Seems life filled me with stings
and sitting down now, no care for whatever it brings
Anyway, it goes around, and so does the life of kings
high to low, and low to high, all are but some weatherings


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