Note: Many of the images I draw and add writing to have spelling mistakes. It may be unprofessional to share them, but I don’t care. The raw images hold meaning for me. So I still share them as is. Thank you for understanding and reading despite my mistakes.
Listen to the crowning leaves Their glory days proceed with ease, The wind gives to them a voice. They shout, with shaking leaves, rejoice. First time snow has run away Autumn has another day.
Leaves of gold shimmering shine Their dying days a heaven shrine They do not weep as down they fall They lay their royal carpet for all And all can play in piles of gold Rich or poor, young or old.
Soon there gold will turn to brown But in their cries there is no frown It’s well known they’ve earned their rest A golden crown marks them as blessed The first time snow has come and gone So autumn sings us one last song.
Who you’re with is not your worth nor is who you’ve lost Your girth is not your total sum nor what you make nor what you become The thing inside that is alive whether you’re dead or not That is the thing that is your worth it can not be measured weighed or bought