Spare Me

Seems we’re a bit overexcited
As solstices are approaching
So the very last seasonal poem
Has made its way to my reads

I don’t want to be rude, I get it
This winter was a long and hard one
Snow, ice, their affective disorders
Soup, hibernating, sad songs

So the same old Spring approaches
We’re all deja-vu inspired
But flowers, chirps, and cut grass
Are topics of which I’ve grown tired

I’d bet that up next is next Summer
More writing and rhyming of warm days
Lemonade, swimming, and short skirts
Predictable plots are so overplayed

Pens uncap the following Fall
Bring forth an old set of problems
New colors and death to the trees
The least you could do is call it Autumn

I’d appreciate the expansion of themes
Like how you came in second place
Wild nights, war, and heartbreak
The last lover that you gave an O face

I’m guilty too, but recovering
Cool kids don’t write about the weather
So please look around for more depth
The next time you see a Gump feather