Fall breezes blowing
Dark gray skies
Decorate
The sun hides for a late entrance
Bright colored leaves
Red, orange and yellow
Tease the senses
Smells of fallen leaves abound
Rustling in the wind
Some clinging to their branches

Chimes ringing in the wind faintly
Playing their own muted tune
Warming up the heart

Tea and apple cider brewing
Pies in the oven

As the temperature drops winter is not far behind

They say I cannot hurt,
They say I can't complain,
They say my pain is a fantasy
They have not seen my brain.

They say I am okay,
They say that I am cured,
They say my problems are in my head
Of that they can be sure.

They say that I am strong,
They say that I am weak,
They cannot decide for sake of my mind
And that is why I bleed.