One year in the desert.

The_Light_Rail_3_by_chiggerwood

Spring begins,
We all hurry,
To find our joy,
Our children screaming,
With happiness unrelenting.
Enjoyment of cool weather,
And birds singing are overshadowed,
By mad men raging,
And temperature increasing,
Time is short,
And cruelty is bred.

Summer comes,
Heat unyielding,
Sidewalks burning,
Playgrounds empty,
Harsh winds blow as,
Dust lacerates,
Disfigures,
Mangles,
And destroys as,
Storm clouds gather.
The rain is bitter,
Unnourishing, acrid steam,
It makes a man cruel.

The fall is cold coating,
The streets with icy water causing,
The motorist to forget his fellows,
Destroying,
Others in his path,
And those far away,
It makes a woman cruel.

Winter hits,
Desperation rises,
There is no love between,
Two bodies writhing,
The crystal smoke,
Fills them with joy,
And unyielding hatred,
And screams and cries of anguish,
Paranoia desperately seeking,
Relief from the deseperation,
It makes a child cruel.

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