Thoughts Heading Towards Eventuality Poem by Candice Renae Williams

Time passes slowly,
An unforgiving world of fate,
A tree stands tall,
The leaves move only with the passing of the wind,
Swiftly ruffling with the fleeting brush of air.
If only I was that wind that flies so freely,
Without worry or responsibility,
But no
I am like the leaves,
Which for their debt to the tree,
They are doomed to fall,
Leaves catch the dew in the morn’
And the sun’s rays during the day.
A repeating state that they are in,
They play their role in the scheme of life,
I wonder if they envy the wind,
The freedom to fly.
For they have an inevitable outcome,
To fall
And finally to “rest” in the gliding breeze.