GM, November

It’s November,

I feel better than ever!

No one wants to rot in rain,

but can’t change the weather.

How hard you can laugh at

the world being a bad joke?

How timing is a bitch, yet

time doesn’t exist at all.

Catching a missed flight,

running in vicious circles,

I pray from a dying planet:

my whispers be cherished.

The star beams dazzling light,

sad it’s already dead.

When your letter is finally returned,

has my message gone weak and worn?

It’s November,

I feel better than ever!

Can’t control the climate change,

I go live in my own summer ;)

How much you can grief, in

a doomed world full of regrets?

How there’s still time, when

you are honest to decide.

The world might not be real,

the summer tho is truly chill.

I pray to a dying planet, to

break free from guilt and sorrow.

Is this enough wordplay for the day,

writing a poem for November on October 28th?

The puzzle lies between Past and Future,

Where the rest simply fades.