The Solitary Life Of A Leaf

Falling leaves all around me.
Leaves of every colour.
You woulnd't believe how fast they're falling. So fast.
Like they're running from the clouds,
unaware of the fate that awaits them should they reach the ground.

Really it doesn't even matter if they get to the ground or not.
Eventually, they all meet their end anyway.

"Hello sir or ma'am! How would you like to die today?
Our special today is the "Jumping Delight,"
however I also recommend being impaled, drowning,
or the chef's personal favourite:being ripped apart."

And that is essentially how it is.
So many ways to die, and you only get one shot.
One attempt to make your death stand out from all the others.
You better think about it beforehand.

"No sir or ma'am. Honestly I can't tell whether you're a male or female,
so there's no need to worry about gender-equality. Nor am I racist by any means.
You could be green. Or red. Or yellow for all I care. Also, I don't care much for your texture.
You say you're full of thorns? And sharp? Well then sir or ma'am, the only advice I have,
is that you shouldn't try to get impaled."

Falling leaves all around me.
Some of them at the last second slow down,
like they're forseen their coming doom.
Alas, despite their best efforts of floating this way, or that,
the world refuses to relent, and bam....
Another one gone.

No matter.
Not many people miss leaves a whole lot anyway.
No one.

Save, perhaps that old catapillar who often delighted in the juicy treat of fresh leaves.
But catiapillars too, forget in the end.
Some of them escape before the leaf ends it's life.
Not all.
Some turn into butterflies.
And the ones who do, never look back.
Not even once.
Not even when the leaves fall quietly around them.