An overturned leaf sits idly in my way
Tattered on the edges, wet from the rain
I can see the veins all over this frail creation
Lifelessly pumping the remaining bits of energy
This capsized little gem, clinging dearly onto life
Lying face-down on the sidewalk
I draw closer to this fine little specimen
The wind is picking up, threatening to take it
Edges rigidly flap against the ground
Loose gravel sticks to it, tattering more and more
Almost glued to it’s already stricken exterior
Kneeling down only to examine this character
I wonder to myself “Should I pick it up?”
I wonder to myself “Should I leave it alone?”
I wonder “Is it worth it all to worry about something so lifeless?”
Should I cast it aside and keep on my path?
All answers not justified with action
I slowly walk away.
A coward’s response
Pondering the meaning of it all
the description; the personification; the absolution
Stopping to smell the roses isn’t all it’s cracked up to be