January, cold as the flu,
Snowy as some ashes,
Shivering as a scare,
January, as boring as a bee
February, as lovely as the sky,
but far too cold for as much as people know,
for the love is the only thing keeping people sold,
February, as rich in hope as cold in stone
March, as burdening as a death,
building up tension as someone walks into the room,
as if a cat met a dog,
March, the season of...
