Alas, it has been a season of yawns and weary sighs,
Each and every morning met with dreary eyes;
The sluggish shuffles; the weight of the world upon;
Several moons have waned since hope has shone.
Far too many dawns have passed, it must be confessed,
Which have been welcomed without an inkling of zest.
All that remains is a grim incessant strain
As you see all your vigour trickle down life's drain.
It is now you have a choice: shed a tear and cry
Whilst watching your spirits languidly die,
Or take the deepest of breaths and roll up your sleeves
And begin sweeping away these gaunt autumn leaves...
Choose the latter, I implore, for it is the one that revives,
And remember how ever slow she may be, Spring always arrives!
Jack Growden's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Autumn Leaves by Jack Growden )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- It's Like Telling Us Not To Cry, Kelly Zion
- PH: Life: Growing Up, La! - Chapter 1, Brian Johnston
- UGLY MISSILES ARE STILL TARGETTING INNOC.., MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Roost, David Harris
- Tel Aviv on Amphetamines, Guy Shaked
- Tears Flow, Seinu Abdulgafar
- 'We Are All Michael Brown' Tanka, Chenou Liu
- Steal Away, Francie Lynch
- love1, andy pierce
- a little piddle, lee fones