oh, november,
what have you done to me?
i don’t want this.
this is not me—reckless.
let me go back.
don’t stop me.

Written by Diana Garcia**
Trees sway and swoon as their leaves begin to decay
Soaring winds blowing all and even my sins away
Beneath these November trees are memories
Of summers past. Romances that would never last.
Laughs that still bring a smile, thoughts of whom
I haven't seen in a while.
Season change is inevitable, the leaves always fall
Even the sun descends and the moonlight always comes to an end
If all change can be seen could it all look so serene?
What a blessing it would be if my change
was as pleasant as the night sky
Maybe it is
or at least I can try..