''Portrait''

Leaves could fall like how they could get so many,
till everything's unpredictable like the fragrance of your wrist.
There's no life in photographs but I've never seen any
like the one's of you in mind and just die like this.

Colors be that typical, the black and whites
same like days you go through.
Let this train pass at everythin,
till that face comes up again makin it all feel brand new.

And the 3rd of January is long over,
maybe these thoughts' some February that has never been.
Reasons tend to shy away when you're close to the truth,
and you're one of them why fools are like leaves when they rush in.