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the scriptorum
poetry & prose

LEAVES
submitted anonymously

leaves lay on the ground

nothing makes a sound

there is a slight breeze

and more leaves fall off the trees

like memories forever lost

the seasons change at any cost

I look back and see my past

then I turn away very fast

the past is best left alone

there's too much there for me to atone

it is best to turn to what's in front

for in the future is where we must hunt.

 



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