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Seasons gradually change over time,
As does my state of mind.
While my heart knew what was right,
I had to put up a fight.
Though I cared for what was wrong,
I must move along.
Now that my heart longs for the past,
I have decided to think fast.
Nature runs its destined course,
Even if it temporarily ruins the source.
Things change for the better,
As seasons change in weather.
Though the thought kills me,
It is inevitable to see
That things will never return,
And those old thoughts I shall burn.