A world of constant falling leaves.
A word that clearly likes to cheat.
Many of the leaving leaves,
fall from trees as high as dreams.
A word that clearly likes to cheat.
A way of trust makes it seem.
The words that really clearly cheats,
sways whose judgment can it keep.
A way of trust makes it seem
that many of the leaving leaves
never leave their chosen trees,
they’re hanging on till winter’s keep.
Random jargon floating through the murky liquids of my mind.
Mess lines creating chaos within the confines of mine time.
Shielding skin focusing strengths on my general life that tries.
Growing confidence in my time reflects mind; my trying life.
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