Through My Eyes

If you think about it, winter is rather unpopular

Everyone prefers the hot, hassle-free summer,

no one's fascinated by its capturing demeanour.

Pitying themselves, they blame and curse, as if only he's at fault,

Not seeing the issue within them, they claim, He's just an assault!

When finally he comes to an end, they all thank the skyvault.

Then slowly comes the gentle spring with flowers in the field,

The cold is gone, the sun returned and people smile, relieved and pleased.

They walk outside through blooming trees and feel the soft pleasant breeze.

Yet I don't like him quite as much as others do,

The light is blinding bright and blocks my view.

So, spring to me is not always the one that I would choose.

Miklós Csenge   X. H