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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