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The name—of it—is “Autumn”—
The hue—of it—is Blood—
An Artery—upon the Hill—
A Vein—along the Road—

Great Globules—in the Alleys—
And Oh, the Shower of Stain—
When Winds—upset the Basin—
And spill the Scarlet Rain—

It sprinkles Bonnets—far below—
It gathers ruddy Pools—
Then—eddies like a Rose—away—
Upon Vermilion Wheels—

Okay
So you wanted to leave
And I had nothing to say.

Dark but not evil,
Hurt but not hurting,
She's been like that
She's been like that -from the beginning,

All the insecurities within,
And all the beautiful people around,
She was intimidated, bruised,
But she didn't make a sound,

She wondered,
"How it is so easy for them?
To laugh, to live,
And to make friends,

How is it that I don't fit in?
How is it possible for a human,
To be as weak,
As a butterfly wing?

And what could have been,
If only I was pretty enough,
Maybe,
Just maybe I wouldn't look so dumb."

After always being left behind,
If now she wants to be alone,
What do you expect?
If not a heart like a stone?

She's the hero of her own story,
A villain, at the same time,
Some days, she saves herself,
Some days, she has demons to dine