December
Miles King
It's late December
Watching the leaves on the trees
Nothing could happen to me
Or would it?
I'll picture that it shouldn't
But I remember
Taking control of my knees
Wiping a tear off my cheek
Till I fell down
Return to sender
Nothing could ever compete
Sorry for wanting to leave these faces
I'm off to better places
So I surrender all that I wanted to be
Maybe someday you'll agree
But not right now