The yellow and red leaves
drift away from the trees
like friends drift apart
after a bad party.
Sometimes they pick up where they left off
sometimes they don't.
The leaves fall like ashes
from a burning building,
the same way friends fall from
the top of relationships,
burning down before their eyes.
Eventually, the fire departments leave
and let it burn to the ground.
There's no hope for the people inside.
There never was.
The tree and the leaf have a relationship
only broken by time.
The ash and the fire have a relationship
only broken by air.
It's the question of making memories
with someone that you know will leave you
or never making memories at all.
Maybe I would be better off alone.
I could live in an apartment in
New York, work at home or at the
bakery across the street.
I would never let myself meet you
because looking back on everything
I can see that it's been too long.
Time has shown its power
and I'm drifting away.
Falling like ashes from a fire.