guilty-pleasures

Dark in the night the leaves blow by. They swirl and go around like my mind in a hurry. I find that the confusion of the autumn is somewhat like my life. No rhyme or reason, no just explanation. Only the mere sound of the swirling and swooshing that reminds me of my dreams and hopes. From the leaves sweeping down the street, I remember what I once had and long to get it back. It is the happiness and joyfulness I once experienced. Now it's lost in the abyss somewhere, away from my heart where I so longingly wish it was back, but in some far off corner of my heart... I know it best there; away