Weather Got To Me

By Gaurav Parab

The horses in this town refuse to move,
The poets here have no truths to prove,
The sheriff has more hats than ability,
Most of all, the weather got to me.

The masks and the faces that mask them,
The grown up voices behind childish mayhem,
No song worth hearing, no play to see.
Most of all, the weather got to me.

There was a time not too long ago,
When you reaped as you sow,
Someone now plucks someone else’s tree,
Most of all, the weather got to me.

Not too long ago each word was a significant treat,
Today everyone speaks what falls close to bull’s feet.
Nothing to toast, no reason for an apology.
Most of all, the weather got to me.

Good men have left this town,
The who have stayed, have left this town.
The food really puts you down.
The cooks here should be shot or set free.
Most of all, the weather got to me.

If you ask me why I am packing my bags,
Bringing down proudly hoisted flags,
Said that I would be gone the next full moon,
Why wait, we can make you leave soon.
Best years of my life guarding this place,
This dead town even in it’s farewell shows no grace.
I got plenty of reasons honestly,
Most of all, the weather got to me.