All the green I have me around, And all the leaves with they are crown'd, Poor thing, why do you look so brown'd? Like from you life has badly drain'd. Fresh and alive as ever your peers are, They seek more from the nature nor; Have you been,ere your time,call'd To assume the divine lap, I behold? Is that a cover from your mate Which renders you futile shade And deprives you of morn light? Art those your frail doors they barge in Disfiguring your ethereal margin? Trust and trip, I'd rather put it as. The former eases the latter, The latter is as much the easier. To a withering leaf #witheringleaves #trustbroken
