Spoiler
Again, I have to write a poem for language arts and... So... Here it is.. I guess. 
Autumn
Lifting me off the ground,
with the colorful leaves of the
nostalgic trees.
Autumn is my home.
Though some may like spring,
with the world awakening,
and the weather warming.
Autumn is my home.
Though some may like summer,
with the world all alive
and the hot, sunny days.
Autumn is my home.
Though some may like winter,
with the ground sparkling,
and white flakes fluttering.
Autumn is my home.
I yearn for the crisp leaves
underneath my feet;
as I step through the forest
like a delicate deer.
Autumn is my home.
