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Leaves
Leaves of gold,yellow and red,
gently falling on top of my head.
Bringing again the season of cold,
each with a story which must be told.
Quietly spiraling to the ground,
telling their tale without a sound.
Leaves of gold,yellow and red,
gently falling on top of my head.
Bringing again the season of cold,
each with a story which must be told.
Quietly spiraling to the ground,
telling their tale without a sound.
