September

Sweet September winds sweep silent Autumn

secrets through drain pipes and alley ways.



Tire, tempered tears stream my face

with all the grace found in war.



Betraying kisses find their place between

friends, forever wedged in time and space.



A queit feud flys between two

who werent once, but now are apart.



A boys guitar sings songs of spoiled love,

and how now it is all so purely plastic.



While anothers fingers flail fine,

denying the need to rewind.



For now they keep tougne in case.

For the love of the courting chase

he has bled the boys, but they are

not yet dead.