Let the normals have their fun
Laughing clearly on the midnight run,
Criss-crossing fast parades
Masked in custom masquerades;
The greener grass a lonely witness
As they slowly bake to crispness,
The dullest music pours aloud
The little hearts it then enshrouds,
Pausing smiles and driving sorrows
Slipping by their stainless hollows;
Emptiness is held within
Right beside the biggest green,
Bringing chill I feel so well
Venting through this cushioned hell;
My story ends and theirs begins
As the gallows test its springs
And there, at last, strive to remember
We will never see September.