In April I dreamt of a spring in my step and stumbled but dreams still May come true

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In April I dreamt of a spring in my step and stumbled but dreams still May come true

April waltzed in,

Smelling like flowers

But it turned out to be mainly cold

And filled with showers

I put in the work,

Spring-cleaning myself 

I uncluttered every shelf

But old baggage, it seems,

Is difficult to let go of

There is comfort in pain

And this April, it seems,

A malevolent god in the rain,

Flooding my brain with thoughts insane

I am become a destroyer of my own world

By falling back into my patterns of old

I sense something else, though,

A seed of hope

Carried by the dust of my dreams

As May floats in on a warm breeze,

Dazzling in the sunlight