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Scattered leaves, they lay at our yard.
Nothin's new, for leaves are meant to grow and fall.
Yet today they seem to bring a certain glow.
Was it the midnight rain?
Or the side of bed I got up?
The reason, I've given up to know.
What does it matter when a moment's about to end?
My mind could paint only a moment.
And a moment my heart could only grasp.
Now, never would I wonder why Doc Leo loves scattered leaves.
They do speak in words only the heart could ever seize.
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