Sway
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I slip into tragic moods
When I see autumn’s deeds

The brightening colours
Reminds me my youthful treasures

The way the turning tides fare
Exhibits before me my mid aged scare

The fading sequence
Just elaborates my gray’s consequence

The falling leaves frighten me advising me
My proximity to the THE END scene


Do I have a chance once again to swing in spring?
Getting the boon to be blessed a fresh the new wings

Wait and see we ‘ll have really nothing to say
Till the time the clock clicks we pray to be a poet in all the sway
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