February

Those short moments

with cherry treats,

with music beats,

with sweet comments.

Those pretty times

when freedom rule,

when nothing's cruel,

when a bell chimes.

Those quiet parts

is the winner,

is the inner,

is sweet heart tarts.

Those angry yells

like a shadow,

like poison flow,

like dark, black wells.

February,

a color bold,

a grand love sold,

a bit more weary.