She's a pointless rain in August,
One that causes pain because it does nothing to aid the heat,
In defeat people lay in sadness,
With madness as they wait for the dreaded announcement of summer’s end,
The rain will not mend the pain of memories that they will always remember,
I'm a blizzard in December,
A rare member of love,
People put on their gloves to avoid my cold touch,
But with much trust believe me I am warmer than the color blue,
And you,
You are a true heatwave in June,
People might drown in your sand dune of love,
They may fly like a dove in your sweet weather,
Float like a feather in the arms of your warmth,
But the alarms eventually go off,
As your soft mood goes hard,
You may not be a rare card like me,
But I hope you see that you are also hard to love just like the rest of us.