Like the leaves on the tree every path we
Choose to tread is different, is Special,
No one follows the same route, the destination
Is the same to all yet the story of how,
More specifically why, is another matter.
We are all star dust wrapped in hope, shaped
By jealousy and warped by fear, but none of that
Particularly matters, not when surrounded by those whom
You hold most dear, almost unknowingly we move
Slowly forth, expanding and contracting in our
Own little ways.
Everyone is different, such a statement could
Seem to be obscure, but consider us all as snowflakes,
We drift contentedly for a while and eventually are
Laid to rest for eternity, such a peaceful picture,
All chaos removed, there’s a thought to last for days…
We are as unique as the paths we tread, but one day
We will all arrive at the same destination, which
To the individual may differ, even in death we remain Unique.