Poem: September

I remember the touch of September,
The cool kiss of the wind;
The wind that was calling the leaves to start falling
Like the tears upon my skin

I remember all the sounds of September,
The music of the summer’s end;
They shiver and float, these melancholy notes
And speak of the loss of a friend

I remember the voice of September,
Whispering of endings near;
We’re losing the sun, and I, for one,
Have a heart traced over with fear

I remember the pain of September,
As sharp and as bitter as a thorn;
My tears spill, thinking that likely I will
Only have more mourn.

I think this goes without saying, but as we live in a world of rampant asshattery, please allow me to state for the record: this is my intellectual property. As such, please do not copy, circulate, edit, alter, take credit for, or otherwise appropriate this material without my express permission. Thank you.

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