With many branches and leaves
That holds the story of a ME
Who exists, should be or gone already.
I see the past as a leave
That tried its best but,
It’s time to flee into the air
And to just disappear.
I see the future as a blooming flower
Opening its petals as the opportunities transpire.
Each thought, each action, each word
Makes the flower to blow with color.
And when the time is right a fruit will devour
The place where used to be just a drop of color.
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