Poetry in Autumn

 They know they are not like us, they don't want to be like us.  They see us foolish and silly, how they despise us.  They see us for what we are and not who we are. What we are, to them is a means to an end. An end which they never attain yet, and yes, they continue to no end. And they will suck the life force out of us if will let them.  If we will let them they will suck us dry. They will suck and not stop until they have removed our very soul out of us. Our very lives, our very soul is what they seek. They walk around but we know they prowl, their smiles are wiles. They woe and charm and disarm us with their charismatic smiles. They work hard to convince us that they are one of our own, Whilst knowing very well that they are not human. They may look and eat and sleep and walk and talk like us, But they are not our own. Our own have hearts within our heart of hearts. Our own have a heart to feel and heal the motion of life. Our own a