A crisp wind ruffles my hair, 

Strips me of color, leaving me bare.

Oh how the times twist and turn,

Bringing me down, making me burn.

Reds, yellows, and oranges sing,

Though I hear no sound, grief this year brings.

A leaf catches, drifting down,

I wish, oh I wish, joy could be found.

The leaf falls, falls, deep into an abyss,

No one will know, no one will miss.

The bitter chill sweeps me off my feet,

No longer will I wander these winding streets.

The leaf falls into dark, into despair,

While a crisp wind ruffles my hair.