Story of a leaf

Walking through the alley

Of the memoirs of the falley

Orange was the shade

and nothing appeared man made

The dried leaf on the ground

never made a bit of sound

Each had a telling story

Of its green and shining glory

When they were a part of tree

all of them were free

for poison to inhale

without a single fail

Now that they are dead

We are still unfed

As the autumn will pass and more leaves shall grow

We would still be wanting and never take a bow

to the little leaf that lived 

and made the air so pure

We would burn the dead ones

and always make it sure

that the new ones on the branches

will never have the cure!!!