Autumn is Slightly Better Than Spring
You don’t know.
Why the frown and grey words that comes after
Why the love for rain and wind and the dark night
Why the sleep deprives and fears to wake up
You don’t know, but it’s alright.
You don’t understand
Why the longing for ends and the silver skies
Why the constant urge to scream in a form of total silence
Why fetching troubles only to justify those tears
You don’t understand, but it’s alright.