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Optimist
The bleeding berry hangs from the tree
Bruised from the harvest
Battered from the battle
And dripping with autumn blood
That all the humans crave
With flaring fangs and spidered fingers
Oh, the berry hangs his head high and proud
Dangles like fish snatched by a hook
Soaking in the avid autumn air
Avid and decaying down to winter icicles
He's so optimistic he'll survive
For silence speaks louder than sound
Echoes longer than the dragging wind
That sweeps up the cringing leaves
Shivering and crackling
Oh, how he battles everything
Golden autumn afternoon
