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Ripped Off The Page Part 3
19 June, 2009
Author: Luke Mudge

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If when you die your body lay beneath 6ft of dirt but your soul takes part of another life-form, then I want to come back as a leaf on a tree.

Leaves by far, live the best lives, they grow and die in one year, so this way everybody should have a turn to be a leaf.

It’s the only life form that we admire all year long. It has a nice green glow in the spring and summer, and then when summer turns into fall, leaves start to get older. Unlike humans who get old and frail and less attractive, leaves become even more beautiful than it ever was right before it passes its life.

We admire these leaves every autumn and they steal the spotlight and become a main attraction.

Even the dead ones we either will pick up and look at or just have that memory of walking down a road with them all around you in the autumn air.

So that even when you died if you are a single leaf, you are still beautiful.

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Comments on this poem/writing:

shiloh (67.251.100.215) -- Saturday, June 20 2009, 12:59 am

Wow!

You have written a painting here, one which gives pause to the reader, shows a new and unique way of looking at the autumn season...
as well as a new way to think about the autumn of our lives.
You have beauty in your heart, in your mind, and in your words.
Peace...
Colin (69.157.17.127) -- Saturday, June 20 2009, 02:01 am

Double Wow!!!

Actually in the four corners of nature each season offers us a different tableau of art!
 
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