by Lina Frazier

Created on: November 02, 2008

Sometimes the quiet seems too loud

The crisp autumn breeze so well endowed

With the sound

Of Change.

Sometimes the days

They seem too short...

With nothing left but night's report

Of how lonely Winter's been...

And will be again.

Sometimes feels like all the time

When there's nothing left to say.

No more childish laughter,

Or silly games to play.

Sometimes feels like all the time

When youth has run away

And you know it's not coming back

Some other day...

When it's not raining.

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