Why do I revel in the autumn?
Because of the rosy leaves
the rustling falls
the gruesome acorns and their murders.
Because of the withering life
the falling skin
the preparation for the face of death.
I bask in the torture
because the dying leaves
are tragedies within themselves,
and the tragic stories
are the fortunate ones.
hey, it’s another poem. Sorry about that. High school is much more work than I anticipated. Also, tumblr.
Skies and Clouds 