In the evening of dawn, did l not find this leaf that had withered? Did I not see the spark in the sky that idolized this leaf? Mother Nature seemed to have had this leaf murdered Can she not enjoy this beautifully colored reef?
Soon the wind changes its course, and the father of leaf has lost all his children. Maybe he saw this as pain or maybe as a burden But now through the chills, the father stands tall as a pilgrim, He is keeping his strength warm, warm as a mitten.
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