Published April 22nd, 2013

Hours of raking and blowing of leaves
Only to have twice more fall from the trees
By the friendly frolic of an Autumn breeze.

Yet there in the distance an object appears
By the result of your blood, sweat, and tears;
It’s the manifestation of your misplaced fears!

As you creep ever closer to the object in sight,
It’s not long before you’re filled with delight
As your landlocked body begins to take flight
To crash into a leaf pile of impressive height.

Who Am I? || Ill With Want
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