your seasons

me, like a tree rooted here having no choice but to endure your weather me, like the grass that dies in the winter having no choice but to embrace our ruin me, like the trees that rebirth in the spring having hope that we will make a full recover me, like the grass that is tested in the summer having little to none faith and stamina dwindling me, like the leaves that mature in the fall having accepted our end and ready to move on me, like a tree rooted firmly to the ground having no choice but to endure your indecisive weather you come and go like the seasons leaving me to wonder if you’ll go forever