Every leaf that falls is a sadness passing. Each loitering with wistful, earnest melancholy. “If only I were holly.” A million entreaties to be forgiven. For what? They know not. You see, the trees will never tell. They keep their secrets; so very well. They let them fall; the Ash; The Oak. Enough to make the soil choke. Callous in their disregard. The leaves? They just fall, long...And hard.Birth sign: Gemini
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