With the leaves

With the leaves that fall and bend and curddle into funny shapes and wither away

On Winter's snowy eve- I'm reminded of you- I'm reminded of me- All the things I've come so far to do as well as a few hopes that I have a desire to continue. Achieve and lest I say I won't rest upon meeting my

destination. I'm under constellations and surveillance, but I won't meet my maker, just yet. The tears fall; as I get upset.

And I refuse to give in as pride is a treacherous thing. I must allow myself some time to recover and recuperate.

I must cooperate with family, and count my blessings. I can't get too greedy or boastful

For all I know we can have shameful

Lies spread and it would only be hurtful.

And there is a decline of the right and more tolerance on the left. I'm still so confused in this tug of war that preys on my head heart and wallet. So I throw my paws upon it and squash my misgivings about the right or the left. Because they never say the truth anyway. It's all in their head. And there is the proof in the pudding and details left unsaid. Till we're dead. And laid to rest. Peace be upon you brotha and sista. We are all God's children. No worries if you have no mister. Mystery is life and life is mysterious bitch but so am I, and I'm telling you this. I make it no secret. I'll take you back to when you were scared. And pissing yourself. And throwing fits. I'll be just here pinching myself, and dreaming of pools I could be swimming in today. Last night or next week. I'm not telling you anything you don't know about me. The winter's withering leaves off the trees are neatly fallen on the ground. And they make a splatter- a bushel, ever so profound.

I'm like the leaf right now and I'm not still not yet dead.