A Forgotten Life
A late Fall season came to play,
breathing out deathly icy winds.
Summer breaths are nowhere near
to thaw memories within their icy tombs.
In an empty playground
the children playing were the dancing leaves,
holding hands around a northern squall.
I heard their laughter.
A gust carried me here
but the children have died.
Fall has been their laughter,
winter shall be their death.
a lifeless leaf cries,
till there is not much left to tear.
A forgotten life,