I can hear the wind's whistle blow past my window pane
The leaves glide gracefully over the tanned grass
Rattling subtly as they get swept away by mother nature
When you step outside, the breeze stings the tips of your nose and ears
The streets look like a ghost town due to the exodus of children it used to host. The once clear blue skies, have been replaced by ashy clouds that laid their nests above our heads.
But seasons come and go
Long nights and short days tango as they roleyplay
Summer is on the cusp of the horizon
This dreary climate shall pass
T