Poetry © by Xrtsys
All Rights Reserved

THE   DEMENTED   RAVINGS

OF   A   FALLING   LEAF

By:   Xrtsys

To Drift.
Drift, drift, drift.
I like to drift.
Drifting on the wind.
The wind!
I love the wind!
How it tickles, caresses,
Oh, how it blows.
Blow wind, blow.
Far away,
Away from here.
Blow me forever.
Forever off the ground.
I hate the ground.
So dirty, so confining,
How so much I like to fly.
With the ground below me.
So very, very, very, far below me.
Wait, what's this?
No! I'm sinking.
Blow wind, blow.
Higher, higher.
No! I mustn't,
Mustn't touch the...
The ground.
Oh how so very much I hate the ground.

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