Buried in the leaves
Fallen I hid my true colors Still green and full of life I breathed in perpetual Spring While shriveled cynicism And morbid moribunds Covered me with their decaying ways Wonder I did What the evergreen must Think When the air becomes Thick With the changing of the guard Doubt surely Must bleed through his Bark And drip on receding Roots Eroding the faith Once unwavering In the love of his Creator Who promised the wind Would one day come And paint sky between the trees So light could Wake the fallen Buried in the leaves
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PoetryBecause all that science just gets old after a while. Archives
October 2019
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