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Another parched, withering summer is here,
When temperatures rocket to the stratosphere.
Grass turns brown, heat waves can be seen;
Only the cacti still remain green.

Not a single cloud to blot out scorching sun,
Here in the Valley, summer is no fun!
No clouds to shelter, no wind to blow;
Just heat to bake and roast you slow.

Drink the cup of sadness to the bitter lees,
From blistering heat there is no surcease.
Even the night becomes scorching hot;
Relief from this hell there is not.

Under central air I grudgingly shelter inside,
Growling impatiently as I unwillingly abide.
Fall and winter cannot come soon enough for me,
When this ungodly heat will be forced to flee.

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