Uneven

When I look out of the window,
They talk to me and tell me about their day..
I keep on complaining,
While they keep saying how it's much better..
To strive..
In an uneven way,

For them their season is over,
Changing color as they have started to fade away..
But even when that's happening,
They are happy..
And don't even utter it once,
That they dislike the array...
Or pleading even once that they wish if they could stay...

Nothing Stays The Same Forever....

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