Why do I look forward to Spring
when I hate repetition so much.
Flowers are going to grow, birds sing,
as sure as a mother's first touch,
or a hen guarding an egg clutch.
All in a vicious cycle it repeats;
life, death, snow, rain, a bunch
of seasons, earth freezes, heats.
Hungry critters snack and munch,
thus what was life becomes lunch.
Why do I look forward to Spring
when I hate repetition so much?
Renewed life is the main thing.
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