Autumn leaves overshadow the grass
To let darkness reign, let no light pass!
Like a capsized boat that drowns its crew,
Like the jealous blind that blocks your view,
It becomes a shield that hinders, not protects.
And the little green swords stabs and rejects,
Up and up the blades of grass push,
To throw the enemy back to the bush.
This is how change gets to be hung,
When the dead repress the young.
Can we—should we—be forgiving,
To allow the dead to bury the living?
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