Poem Title: Seasons

The weather is good whether
It is cold or hot; chilly or warm,
Wet or dry.
For you see, what is good for the goose is also good for the gander.

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It may not be good for the goose in one season but definitely in another, and vice versa.
Tears well up in the sockets, and life, for some reason, seems bizarre.

Often times, when the goose is in her season, she wishes for it to never end, ignoring the fact that the gander must also enjoy his season.

This selfishness is what has made the world what it is today.
So many people prefer their own convenience over another and will do anything to prolong that convenience.

Man is greedy and will always want more. His insatiable craving drives him to behave like wild beasts and assume the character of aliens.

Until the goose understands that life spins on an axis of seasons and that seasons are not permanent but periodic, there'll always be chaos and cacophony.

Whoever has an ear, let him hear.

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