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Autumn Leaves
When leaves ripened in September
Dropped on soil ran over by tires
Mouths opened ajar respiring
Swallowing their presence,
Mother dropped foliage into the fall.
Crumbled into fragmented a sprawl
Of missing puzzle pieces in my memory.
It began surrounded by rivalry
between grandparents fighting over
For one caress of my face shimmering solar
In the withering October.
Winter scurried past tossing youth
Away, along with my missing tooth
Where gust slipped between the gaps.
Oil tumbled down from melting wax
as a smile immersed in raucous claps.
Later on,
No candles were blown on the autumn
day[7] [FS8] — waking up to a vacant room
of citric water gargling in my throat.
I stepped on the frigid floor
Knowing leaves would fall once again.
This time onto aligned cement
whimpering with lungs
Stuffed with boiling phlegm
Throttled to relinquish the only olive stem.
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This poem unfolds my birth and I choose to describe myself as a foliage. I used to dislike love from my family on my birthdays and thought it as a symbol of immaturity. As time passed on, I surrounded myself with more friends but lost the joy and affection of my parents.