Fallen leaves poetry

Fallen Leaves

I wish I could collect fallen leaves,

Like I did when I was five,

They were beautiful to me,

I collected one of every shape and Colour,

Just to be fair.

I wanted to save them, give them a home that was warm, and dry.

I thought they would stay alive forever,

If I cared enough.

But like everything,

Their beauty faded,

Dried up, cracked, turned to dust.

I didn’t understand like I do now.

Trying to keep something alive that is dead is futile.

Now their beauty reminds me of the fragility of life.

Dawn Illsley