The leaves have changed and I have not
In the woods on my cot
Thinking of things I forgot
All those rabbits I could have shot
And I think I'm alone a lot
My trials and pains they do dot
This landscape discouraged, distraught
Unchecked fires my mind has fought
Smokey the bear's unrelenting stare
Looks down on the thinking impaired
Arson our son erect neck hair
Spil-milk truths match-head dares
Stowed in a box marked "No one cares"
Neglected things in disrepair
As nature dusts its dirty shelf
My past silhouette's a shadow of its former self

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