Rotting wood and dead leaves
Standing in the autumn breeze
My heart is tender
My soul is numb
Fighting a war I once had thought was done
Nothing stands a chance against my rugged mind
Not love
Not hope
Not even time
Fading in and out day after day
I beg
I cry
I even pray
Standing here alone again
Thoughts run wild
Looking for a friend
But here I have the oddest thing
To bring feeling back into my numb soul
And strengthen again my tender heart
For nothing makes me feel like poetry
And rotting wood and dead leaves
Bring out the loveliest poet in me.
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