The Autumn in my Mind

Put to shame, daring afterthoughts
tainted by brash colors, A seasonal kinesis.

I join abruptly, unforseen expanses
and wait, alone, for what seems decades.

How obliged is the color red?

To clearly sneak into mundane circumstances.
Proclaiming the brilliance of a finale of freshness.
I too can take on hues,

but somehow it eludes to something forsaken,
and despaired, alway regretted.

Unlike that which sews our souls,
creating through the decay,

one more chance to be Bold.