I guess love is like autumn leaves.
they take forever to die, it grieves
me to see such color and majesty
fall slowly to the ground, never free
from gravity's irresistible pull.
But they die with grace, a fall
like flying, painful to experience
and yet fascinating to the audience.
Red, Orange, Yellow, all eventually
fade to the same brown, sadly
barren of life and happiness.
They lay dying in the dirt, refusing to confess
that they ever fell at all.