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Nov 2019
despondent
  with layers
of suicide
  enveloping me.

  vibrant
colors of
  death above
me and
  below my feet.

hues only
  mastered
in octobers
  and novembers.

leaves and
  their exquisitely
beautiful demise
  had me pondering how
   beautiful
death could be.

   would i be
the leaf glued
  to the wet
pavement
  forever or
  would i be
the one
   picked up by
the wind
   to live again?

i wrestled
   with death
under that
   autumn's tree

it's there....
  i learned about
hanging on
   and serenity.
TheConcretePoet
Written by
TheConcretePoet  Isle of Poet
(Isle of Poet)   
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