• The leaf flutters in the breeze, passing by
    1 by 1 they are ignored and broken remembrance of what it once was
    Alone and tired they are a bore
    But gathered together, a beautiful sight can be made
    And tell of cooler weathers, a frigid cold, or a wetter season.
    There is no end to a leaves differences and similarities,
    Only an end to the ways we can see it.
    A different perspective and ugly becomes beautiful
    Another angle, a change has been made,
    An obstacle out of the way, a changed thought,
    And hate becomes love, love becomes false, and fantasy becomes reality.