Autumn leaves have my sympathy.
They cling desperately to the branches of childhood,
Fully aware of, and trying to prolong the moment of their fall.
Whisked away by a cruel wind, into an uncaring world,
Buffeted by forces beyond their comprehension,
Crashing to a halt upon the blind soil.
Their fate is to stagnate whilst gazing up at the past.
Having bloomed too early, they wither away.
Autumn leaves have my sympathy.














Comments
You sound sad though..
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The scrawlings of an idiot.
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