The Seasons Poem by Thabani Khumalo

The summer rain vainly fell on the city's grounds
Covered by the concrete while the citizens were out looking for love.
The autumn's sheds were beautiful to look at:
The war between the winds and the clinging flowers.
The winter was cold and dry and we succumbed to our final day
Because of starvation in the biting cold.
Those were many days before we were supposed to get to the first day of spring.
The love they had gathered before the summer-set had long turned sour.
How awful they have been - the seasons, for the happiness we'd arduously worked for
Had left us scowled and gloomy before we gave way to the grave.