Autumn

She is like autumn.
It’s glowing and beautiful outside,
But dying inside.
Falling apart piece by piece.

She is like autumn.
Warmth of sightseeing,
and cold-hearted breeze.

She is like autumn.
It’s seasonal.
Sometimes she smiles a lot,
Sometimes she cries endlessly.

But that’s what beautiful about autumn.
It comes seasonal. People are waiting for it.
But people forget that she’s dying.
And even if she falls apart,
She’ll be alright.

She is the autumn.
You know how to make her laugh endlessly,
But you can’t stop her insecurities and anxieties.
You know she’ll come up with varies of stories.
You know she wonders if you’ll get sick of it.
But you never say anything to her.

She is the autumn.
The time when it changes into another weather.
I hope her stories never ends.
Because when it ends,
The winter comes upon you.