Another poem about Fall and Time and Love and crap like that

i'm gonna confess, i don't know how to manage my life
and i have no idea who has the trademark on my mind
but i have a feeling it isn't me
is it you dad?
is it the baron of inconsistency
or the enemy of decency

now let's not pretend we don't know where this is going
right toward a messy collision
how come having fun is such a headache?
and how come it's so hard to have
or keep
this sucks
what's holding it all together?
it's not me, that's for sure

sometime after she saw through all the lies i'd said
(which, funnily enough i thought were true)
and i watched the sunset from a support underneath the bridge
i realized that too much time had passed
and the tree we'd carved our names into had died at last
like everything comes to pass...
i won't see you later, but i had a blast

as the goodbyes linger
upon the crisping autumn air
i can't forget the taste of time gone by
or the color, the feel, the scent of her hair