"Not all leaves change color"

Beyond that blasphemous, deep rooted tree,

Lay a paradise for the ones who seek this:

A parallel existence, not so easily seen,

Through a deceiving power, truthfully its weakness,

Hands its dirt from stem to stem,

The leaves, not knowing what’s in it for them.

Beyond that cruel, that unfair, that narrow,

Minded fool pierced by a single ended arrow,

Shade the slight hues of warmth and of pleasure,

Never to cease, and never to measure.

Beyond the wooden jaws of a splintery ending,

I have seen a place, not to quickly grasping,

Each leafs’ soul, each pliable soul sending,

Its choice to the gnawing, and low voice rasping,

And gasping in their ears, nibbling on their fears.

Take a chance, and swiftly slide beyond,

Beyond to a true freedom waiting,

For the leaves to shake loose from the eternal frond,

And render the cold tree to its baiting,

Yet sadly, the leaves are still there,

Maybe . . . they truly don’t care.

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