The Seasons Poem by Adam Hollingsworth

For years now,
Or so it seems.
I spoke my mind,
But I forgot how.

I feel old and decrepit
In my heart is a monster,
The demons lost to me,
Stomping loudly another theme.

I feel tired and old, yet it
Has lost touch in me. Another summer,
Winter, fall, and spring.
The leafs have stolen my dreams.

For several seasons now,
I just don’t know what to think.
Its all so buried deep,
And lost inside of me.

Maybe sometime the past will bring hold
A future. And maybe yesterday
Has brought news. But probably
I’m dead already. For we know the sun rises
But sets in the east.

Ironic,
Or just ordinary?
What do you…
Think?