Changes - Poetry
A dead leaf
Reminded me of when
You said you loved me.
Autumn, a season of
Changes and the Fae,
Came upon us like a
Bear searching for trout.
We both had a cup of
Tea – me oolong and you
Earl Grey – when you told
Me you loved no one else.
I thought you were lying
Then and still do now.
The dead and dried leaf
Can never return to its
Previous state; all I ask
Is that it can.
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