So I try to assemble my thoughts on a piece of paper
There are so many and so much
One can be discussed, and the rest maybe later .
Struggling in life to have job ...
Browning, old fellow,
Your leaves grow yellow,
Beginning to mellow
As seasons pass.
Your cover is wrinkled,
And stained and sprinkled,
And warped and crinkled
From sleep on the grass.
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