Dimmer days develop, everyday the same. If you listen closely you can hear the trees howling for attention. Bang, I can hear the leafs crashing against the lonely ground.

To live low, stuck at the bottom. From winter to spring, to summer, to autumn. To be stuck at the bottom is an evil belonging, no matter how hard you try, the wind keeps blowing.

Down, down, yellow and brown, go the leaves all over the ground.The leaves are yellow, red and brown, a shower sprinkles softly down, the air is tasteless, crisp and cool, but once again, I'm stuck in school.

The leaves swiftly blow, but with winter just around the corner who knows where they'll go. The last day of May, the birds have all flown, everything is put away, before it starts to snow. And now autumn will die, with a gust of wind she will say goodbye.

By Samantha Laing