Romanticism

I grow tired of class reflections. I will write my own classical/romantical poem and reflect upon it instead.


November has broken.
October is gone.
The trees have spoken.
Their words cover my lawn.

Winter approaches.
Animals hunker down.
The morning frost encroaches.
Fall colors cover the country town.

The cycle of things has come.
As it will always be.
For as long as there is the sun.
This is what I forsee.


I was sorta bored, and didn't want to write a paragraph. I hope this suffices. I made it as classical as I could and threw in nature as a subject. What can I say? I do what I can.