LEAVES

My heart is like a leaf,

When a day that it have to die,

It will completely fall from the branch,

Soon the wind will keep the leaves fly,

As far as the leaves will stand,

Until it drops to the unknown place,

And it will think,

Did somebody will pick the leaves up?

OR,

The leaves will sweep away by garbage sweeper?

OR,

Just use it for decoration?

The leaves are always thinking,

What will be waiting,

And what will happen in the future.