A slight breeze flowing through autumn leaves.
Sitting in the car feeling slight unease.
How could you leave?
Years go by as I grieve,
Autumn turns to spring,
no longer any leaves.
How could I be so naive?
Living in my make-believe,
as I roll up my sleeves.
I don't understand,
Why you would leave?
May 17
May 17, 2026 at 6:40 PM UTC
A slight breeze flowing through autumn leaves.
Sitting in the car feeling slight unease.
How could you leave?
Years go by as I grieve,
Autumn turns to spring,
no longer any leaves.
How could I be so naive?
Living in my make-believe,
as I roll up my sleeves.
I don't understand,
Why you would leave?
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