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By Navneet Yadav

I have sinned,

For I marvelled as someone was falling.

Why does it matter if that's a leaf of a person,

He drifted in peace, following his calling.

He joined his friends on the streets,

Slowly moving as the wind pushed him.

Detached from his branch, he became vagabond,

Strolling and flipping but without his whims.

At times, he got blown away

By the wind that made him shiver.

His heart ached with every feet stomping on his chest,

The departure cut his heart like a sliver.

With the warmth of the summer,

He nurtured under the sun's mellow.

The nights were dark and the stars accompanied,

And the summer days were yellow.

With winter around the corner,

His thoughts were turning blue.

He wondered if the sun would miss him,

Or pass over his head without a clue.

He had fallen,

For he walked with his scratched chest.

The numbness racing through body had stopped,

A looming pain swallowed his zest.

Far away from his roots,

His back hurt while lying on the street.

His ribs and veins showed over the thin, stretched skin,

He was bereft of the sun, his sole treat.

The autumn had arrived,

It stormed all over the city.

He weaks and the fools succumbed,

It faced tough fights from the witty.

The autumn seemed beautiful,

Hiding the ugly truth with charades.

The truth if coldness concealed under the warmth,

And walking down the street, doing masquerade.

By Navneet Yadav

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