Oct 12, 2023
My friend once told me Autumn is the end.
He was pathetic. “Beautiful, deceiving…”
He cried and rushed so willing quickly send
some letters full of love and unbelieving.
…
My friend drank wine. My friend was seeking truth
And every bottle was his “pretty darling…”
He yearned for answers from the reckless youth.
He wished to love. But love was always struggling.