Who are you, friend?
Why do you know these things I don't?
How come you here?
Is there a space to fill I won't?
In separate
times, does autumn come unseen,
or is it me? Am I
too new, too green?
The questions asked by the brotherhood of man
Or the sisterhood of woman, either one;
Do I know? Do I ever know? Or is
This world just scattered leaves, and
Fallen hopes?
By the Brotherhood of Man
