The Start of Fall



I tried to paint a picture of this old city, surrounded by a fortress, made up of a giant bricked wall. I tried to draw it with words, similar to all the poems I wrote. For you.

We walked along the road where the branches of the trees hug each other to give shade and the leaves have started to turn brown and yellow, swept by the wind slowly down the road. We witnessed the start of fall.

I’m here beside you. Don’t you realize, I came halfway around the world to see you?

How I loved hearing your antics, jokes, and opinion about other people.

How I missed feeling your skin brush against mine and that smile you so freely give away.

I wanted this to be a love poem. For you. About how we walked around the fortress and into the old city with stories to be told and secrets to be made. But just like fall, the leaves have turned and somewhere along the road, somewhere along that walk, my feelings have changed.

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