A Poem.
Clouds imperfect, blue-eyed by sky
Try to soil my mood as they pass by
O, you! Spring,
sneaking in patches of sunlight
like an underaged kid on clubbing night,
caught red-eyed
caught tongue-tied
Which just goes to show –
You can never really trust a season
Instead! Look down below –
For the trees do not know treason
and the fidgety leaves do not lie,
stony-eyed (o fie!) as they waltz by
