Leaves, with the crispness and color of a juicy gala apple.
They crunch beneath my feet, like a little boy embarassed at how loud is he chewing.
The wind whistles, as if he is a city fellow, gawking at a woman on the street.

But I, I am silent.

I take it all in, the sights, the sounds, even the smells.
That cool autumn air fills my lungs

Refreshing.

I turn the corner and feel my feet pick up the pace as they carry me down hill.

It's all gone downhill now, hasn't it?

Down from the soaring heights, the fancy dinner parties
Laughter and bottles of wine.
Well, the bottles of wine remain- but the laughter

The laughter is gone.

And all that remains is an empty bottle, and me.
I want to scream out, what went wrong?

But I, I am silent.