The rock bottom of January smells of spilt champagne clattering together.

The rock bottom of February is light pink, full of hope and mysteries.

The rock bottom of March is ribitting like a toad, awaiting for the sun to rise.

The rock bottom of April is an umbrella sheltering the rain from the child underneath.

The rock bottom of May will never see green for it is to brown for it to be seen.

The rock bottom of June smells of sweaty shoes hung up on the rack.

The rock bottom of July is happy like the teenager that just got their first kiss.

The rock bottom of August is as grey as the clouds during a thunderstorm.

The rock bottom of September is yield signs that cause worry for those all behind.

The rock bottom of October never will see the color white for it is too cold and sharp like ice.

The rock bottom of November gleams like the northern stars.

The rock bottom of December shouts like kids opening presents on Christmas morning.