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Seasons
May 23, 2014
Last leaf on the tree
holding on for dear life.
No one can help me.
The leaves on the ground
being trampled with each step.
I am not alone.
Trees covered in fruit.
The bright colors and sizes
I, too, can create.
The wind blows constant
never blowing the same way.
I, too, have changed.
The animals play
running around the meadow.
I know I can live.
© Anonymous
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