Autumn leaves mix together
creating the perfect sheild from Winter's weather
left to suffer our untold fate
will we survive to to the next year, on this date?
come and gone, as seasons do
weve gone from thousands, down to few
our hopes, deminished
dreams, unfinnished
a family, tied together by enchanting poetry
fallen, and reduced, like the leaves of Autumn's tree
[to all my fellow poets who call/have called/will call (insert current club name) their home;
i write this now, as the seasons change, in rembrance of what we used to be. i've compared the changing of the seasonal weather to the sad and prolonged reduction of whats left of our club. i am not trying to offend anyone or belittle this club. honestly i love this club. but...i fear extiction is coming. (ha! im sorry but i cannot stay serious while writing this. lol! but i really am serious about our...lack of life here.)]
