My Fall Creative Writing Bit

in the winter, orange leaves

will fall from old forgotten trees

that do not know what they can help you with.

 

And the wind will blow so cold

like your cruelest friends, so old,

the ones you are so yearning for right now.

 

Red and brown, it comes and takes

the comfort that the Summer makes.

We remember that we are just skin and bones.

 

Grey and blue, the things that Dew

It does to us the things it must:

It keeps us tied together in our holds.

 

Yellow tries and grey will die

and hopefully we’ll all survive.

Somehow all the flowers will still bloom.