Time passes by so quickly,
memories are all that last.
Leaving behind bottled up memories,
August slipped away too fast.
I'm still consumed by June's passionate love,
charmed still by July's glorious smile,
Amiable August came and went like wind,
and the rest too shall walk past in style.
Until yesterday, sweet September was around the corner,
but today he bellows below the spotlight, for he's no loner
He shall play for the days to come,
jazz music with beat and drum
Dance to his rhythm in his time,
for he too shall tire in due time.
Deemed December shall be the last to perform,
a nostalgic play imbued with hope,
he shall finish as per the norm,
paving way again to the first ever play;
January repeats itself.
Pic courtesy: Pinterest
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