Autumn

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Autumn

The crisp air as heartbreaking as the first sight.

Each breath more painful then the next,

One foot in front of another, a pattern of lost bliss.

Crunch of leaves fresh on the cement.

Leaves drifting in and out, one after the next.

Each leaf drifting in the wind, a lost soul,

Detached from a memory, dissipated from a love.

Each leaf stabs my heart, a reopened wound.

The first coming back, just as painfully.

Not my best, I know...

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