A wound in our head
Might be better of dead
October and rain
Can't see you again
Your eyes was my resting place
Replaced with lies and broken space
Kiss me and bring back all memories
Careful so good, replaced with fantasies
These words can't describe your grace
The Wounded Poets, get ready to brace
Hurt past, rhyme schemes
Why do I still hear screams
We should let this wound heal
But this fall seems special to me