It’s August

August seasoned my summer with more raindrops.
I feel less incomplete,
someone with more soul.
The longing doesn’t end though
but the deep pits appear shallow.
As if August could lend a hand
and pick me up from deep valleys.
It’s not that I don’t miss July
But August, It’s preparing me
for less shame and more colors.
Cause soon it will be time for Fall.


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