Peoms For Those Who Hate This Planet

Leaf

Whenever someone talk about death
I think about the trees
or not exactly the trees themselves
but the buds that grow
on the tips
of their fingers.

Turning beautiful colors like,
orange,
yellow,
red.

Growing old and withered.

filling up the once grassy
hills of dirt
with crumbled hopes
and dreams that had once shone
so brightly with
the color green.

Ripen with determination.
Perseverance.
Grace.
Excitement.
Wisdom.
Fear.
Trust.
Radiance.
Happiness.

Whenever something dies,
you can never get it back.

Those leaves grind away to dust,
feeding the fields of weeds
and helping them
grow stronger
so that they may choke out other plants
that simply want to rest in the sun.

Which causes more death.

Though that is the case,
leafs are always replaced
during the lovely season
of spring.

Brown nuts turn to pink flowers,
Pink flowers grows into soft
light green pedals
their shade darkens
Fall arrives
and the cycle repeats.

Growing
Dying
Growing
Dying
Growing
Dying
Growing
Dying.

The cycle continues
with the newest
generation
becoming more beautiful
than the last.

Now here sits my leaf.

Waiting to fall.