Winter you are no longer welcomed in Macomb
And although a part of me is looking forward to spring, I know by the end of this first week this is how I will be:
Spring you are lovely but both my nose and lungs have a personal vendetta out against you.
And I just can't win in the summer because by July I will feel like this:
Summer prof that you can barely tolerate a season, even when you were born in said season.
What I really want is this to happen again, and for it to last longer than a month:
Fall you are beautiful and an overall winner in my book, even though the beauty you produce is because everything is starting to die....
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