JamesSmith Ericsson Poems

He met her when the leaves were green, nothing could happen then. The ice was getting thinner underneath their feet. By this time they were going away, new places awaited. He didn't give it much thought.

The leaves began to wilt. And with them, his love for her. The ice, ever thinner, began breaking with the strain.
'I won't see you' she says, not realising that with this one step, the ice is crashing apart.
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