Walking closer down the lane,
feeling the breeze stroke my back as shivered.
Lost my head.
Lost my conscience.
Saying those rhymes that are glued in my head.

"Walking closer down the boulevard,
seeing an oak tree with gnarly powers,
get by closer it'll be ready to devour.
But, what do I see?
Aging. We age. We grow. Deal with it.

Crossing the road, passing the trees,
nevertheless, a leaf flew past and landed on my shoulder.
But, what do I feel?
Past, Present, Future. An old leaf symbolizes your past which is crumpled down but still has a few...