For the first snow,
I would like you to know
That in your bliss,
I am in a sad abyss.
After the first bloom,
The flowers are a costume
That the hills use to hide
The darkness inside.
Now that school is out,
All the children seem to shout,
And I just sit there
With my monotonous life for which I prepare.
A plethora of October leaves
Is all that one really achieves.
In this season full of renewal,
But people still are cruel.
