That time of year thou walk alone at night
When some leaves, or none, or few, your heart drops
Upon those others which fight against the light,
Struggling, where late night patrol cops.
In me thou trying hard of such honor
As after the walk form the city streets,
Which dark creatures doth not knowing bomber,
Getting trapped, that clueless feeds.
In me alone the keying of such time,
The blank stair of his face doth wonders off,
As the thoughts wear on it must say I’m,
Different by that which judges my cough.
This down fall, which makes thy self more angry,
To love that well which go on and on today.