Sat, 16 Nov 2024 14:48:25 +0000
poem, poetry

I'm scared (of what?)
The public's opinion (oh)
That they'll see my thoughts
and think that I'm more apple than onion
That my mind is clear and simple
without any sort of vigor nor taste
No wisdom to make it supple
or soul to add weight

That what I have to leave
is nothing but an autumn leaf
colored, but fading
forgotten within the day