The sound alarm in the morning
The scent oh smell the roasted
Coffee brewing and every morning
When I started noticing
Every single minute detail around me
The birds chirping away their problems
The leaves oh seemingly orange of age
Falling towards the ground and
Never going back to where it once was
Being swept in a heartless endeavor
In one corner in a pile that resembles
Mountains of old and forgotten
And left till the wind takes
And leaves
As I take a sip of coffee
This morning, contemplating of
All those leaves that have fallen
I ask “When will I fall?”
“Will somebody catch me?”