by Kim Amor
All that sprouts may fall but not its leaf scar,
That marks as its yesterday's remainder;
If its leaf that by wind is blown afar,
Will flee and leaves a mark as reminder.
And such politeness in every autumn,
Allows a leaf to have time for mourning;
By showing once its crimson epitome,
For it just can't refrain from departing.
So afore our connections come to break,
Live every moment as if it's our last;
And pause time as if there is such a brake,
To mark in our hearts the scar of our past.
If someone does not allow what must done,
Gains a wound that will last till ones life's gone!
Last updated November 10, 2016