Spring

I hate this time of year.

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The spring is ending,
bending all in it’s way.
Summer on the horizon
with disappointment and regret,
with failure stacked up,
like an organized stack of hay
embedded within my being.

The sorrow, the sorrow,
nothing can be said about it.
It hits while you’re on your way,
towards nothing.

That’s the effect of springtime on me.
I’m going towards the unknown,
or better yet,
the unknown is chasing me.

Fuck you spring,
I sincerely mean that.

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