It was a bright sunny day. Just like any other.
Little did the leaf know, it was to become the day like no other.
A perfect little sight from the tree it hung unto
Around with the perfect city breeze.
The leaf did not know what the world held for it.
An hour or two passed, when the leaf felt the pain.
The pain of separation from what it did not own.
It felt it bad. And knew its end. From the beginning of the illusion.
It remembered and recalled the fate of the others, while it was blossoming in its springtime.
The leaf, a little fool, despite knowing its fate, couldn't comprehend the pain of its separation.
The leaf, a little fool, felt insecure and ugly. Felt how low and poor it was, despite the world taking pictures of it.
So the little fool, set out a reminder. Each day, each hour, each moment it murmured. Just a bit more and then I shall be free.
The little fool could not. Neither give in or leave. What it felt was what it really couldn't comprehend.
The little fool then finally met its day to end.
But before that it had to, feel and plead its case.
Bit by bit, it felt naked. Exposed with its vulnerability.
Exposed to the brutal and changing winds of time.
It understood yet failed to act on what it saw.
It saw and it felt yet failed to combat what it felt.
It understood the nature, it understood the time.
But it never understood the fallacy of falling for a tree.
Caught unprepared, it fell for a tree.
It spent all seasons fighting its reality.
It dawned upon it, its denial beaten, when the tree welcomed the cold winds and let the leaf fall.
The little fool, smiled, Ashamed at its exposure.
Exposure to the tree that befriended just coldness.
The little fool, knew, its ugliness, its position. It felt so small, so little as it fell.
The little fool tapped itself and whispered in its last breath of pain, just a bit more my little fool, just a bit more.
Nobody noticed as we all walked away. In that park in corner on a bright sunny day.
The little fool, smiled, finally. Alas, at its end. One last time, it looked at the huge wonderful tree, smiled to itself, just a bit more little fool, just a bit more.
There it lay, peacefully, its death so sweet, its bitter pain finally put to an end.
Little did the leaf know, it was to become the day like no other.
A perfect little sight from the tree it hung unto
Around with the perfect city breeze.
The leaf did not know what the world held for it.
An hour or two passed, when the leaf felt the pain.
The pain of separation from what it did not own.
It felt it bad. And knew its end. From the beginning of the illusion.
It remembered and recalled the fate of the others, while it was blossoming in its springtime.
The leaf, a little fool, despite knowing its fate, couldn't comprehend the pain of its separation.
The leaf, a little fool, felt insecure and ugly. Felt how low and poor it was, despite the world taking pictures of it.
So the little fool, set out a reminder. Each day, each hour, each moment it murmured. Just a bit more and then I shall be free.
The little fool could not. Neither give in or leave. What it felt was what it really couldn't comprehend.
The little fool then finally met its day to end.
But before that it had to, feel and plead its case.
Bit by bit, it felt naked. Exposed with its vulnerability.
Exposed to the brutal and changing winds of time.
It understood yet failed to act on what it saw.
It saw and it felt yet failed to combat what it felt.
It understood the nature, it understood the time.
But it never understood the fallacy of falling for a tree.
Caught unprepared, it fell for a tree.
It spent all seasons fighting its reality.
It dawned upon it, its denial beaten, when the tree welcomed the cold winds and let the leaf fall.
The little fool, smiled, Ashamed at its exposure.
Exposure to the tree that befriended just coldness.
The little fool, knew, its ugliness, its position. It felt so small, so little as it fell.
The little fool tapped itself and whispered in its last breath of pain, just a bit more my little fool, just a bit more.
Nobody noticed as we all walked away. In that park in corner on a bright sunny day.
The little fool, smiled, finally. Alas, at its end. One last time, it looked at the huge wonderful tree, smiled to itself, just a bit more little fool, just a bit more.
There it lay, peacefully, its death so sweet, its bitter pain finally put to an end.
The day began to set, the little fool at peace.
As another season passed and another fool peeked, from the roots of the tree.
Its time, its nature, its life.
Just a bit more to each little fool.
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