never enough color upon the hills we wander, the green
and gold hold hands until they fall, the red’s stand alone bearing their last bit of grip, the winds will flow sending me on a memory setting trip, stood still while still moving, in awe that such greatness falls before the cold embraces, when the sun brings frigid cold, and gloomy dark clouds bring warmth.
This open post was written 1 year, 7 months ago | V/U/S: 456, 9, 5 | Edit Post | Leave a reply | Report Post
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