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.