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Absence of Gratitude

When the first brisks of hollowing winds stop at its destination,

We try to beat winter's infectious breath.

We plead, praying: "Oh, how I wish summer would come by to push the cold away."

Winter is not welcome, as we shovel its gift astray.

Months pass, we are greeted by the sweats.

We wipe them away in disgust, cry out, and regret.

We plead for the soft, cool, swift breezes.

Something so simple, a breath of a breeze.

And when the leaves fall from the trees,

Changing colors,

Viewing a kaleidoscope painted by the forest of leaves,

I step on them. I step on the leaves, hearing them crunch beneath my feet.

And when the next season passes by,

Giving new life, flowers, and bees...

My sniffling nose and teary eyes...I'm on my knees.

I pick the petals for fun,

Inevitably destroying its life...

And it's gone.

And so has my humanity and gratitude.

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