The Doe

Oh, solitary autumn,

I reap just what I sow.

I try to love ‘till things get tough,

Then run off like a doe!

My town looks nice in autumn,

Good for lonesome walks.

I only need some company—

It’s quite the paradox.

We seem so nice in autumn,

I wonder if it’s real.

This time is different, cinnamon—

That’s what it makes me feel.

The air smells nice in autumn,

When you’re next to me.

I never quite foresaw this kiss

In my best reverie.

Leaves look nice in autumn,

That is, until they die.

“A sweet song now, but bitter soon

Is what we are,” I cry.

There’s nowhere left for autumn,

In winter’s land of snow.

I’d like to stay, but I’ll run away

Again, just like a doe!