March 14, 2012
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The fatality of leaves, falling to my feet
As I hear a crunch, with every step.

Their shade seems, to just slide away
Like rain falling, into the depths of the gutter.

Their lifeless limp, waiting to be pushed, pulled
And locked tightly away in a dark musty bag.

When their last chance of survival is over the hope has vanished.
Are helplessly forced from the ground dumped like trash.

And taken away like they weren’t once conveying shade
To your children as they play in the hay,

Or the gaudy friends that you had once gazed
From the window of your beloved home.

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