Autumn Melancholia

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


Summer nears it's end

Submitted: August 03, 2018

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Submitted: August 03, 2018

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Summer takes its last breath, and passes away,

Days are growing shorter, the sun’s grown tired.

Traffic has come back, class is back in session,

The smell of pumpkin spice, hangs in the air.

 

You can find me, in the fields, among dying trees,

With orange, red, brown and yellow leaves.

The trees die so beautifully, the leaves are its ashes,

That the wind scatters across the entire country.

 

The autumn breeze, feels cool upon my face,

With an icy kick, that sends a chill up my spine.

A perfect day, overcast with a constant breeze,

The lack of sunshine, that doesn’t bother me.

 

A season for melancholia, all of the opportunity

Of summer has gone, or at least that’s what they say.

The earth slowly dies, losing the life that it had,

And the sun doesn’t shine as bright, as it used to.

 


© Copyright 2018 Melancholic Wisdom. All rights reserved.

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