Autumn comes quicker every year,
as my enjoyment of the last crumbles any excitement that I might have had.
I mostly do not enjoy the spectacles that Autumn loves about itself.
I see that many others do,
and I believe Autumn has them fooled.
But they smile and they laugh,
and they leave me feeling like they must be smiling at my utter agony.
At my unwillingness to enjoy Autumn,
and at my lack of understanding,
that must be purely because of my idiocy.
YOU ARE READING
Cups of Cold Brew
PoetryThis is a poetry collection about everything that is sweet and bitter. Heavily inspired by the glorious season called Autumn.
