Leaves

There are two types of leaves in this world, They both end up having the same affect, One means to go away from something forever, but one is just a pretty thing to look at.

Leaves are the 2nd a tree will grow, After the trunk that is. They are thin like paper, But strong like glass, Yet still breakable.

That is in the youngest years. But later on they grow their sizes, And end up green and young, Many things end up a metaphorical green, and a literal young But with leaves it is a literal green, and a metaphorical young,

But over time the affects of the world, End up changing the leaves, Their green turns red, Their stems harden up, And they slowly begin to die, At least they are still pretty to look at,

But like all things, Their beauty does fade, The crinkling brown of the leaves in no longer vibrant, And nobody looks at them on the trees anymore,

And they fall off the tree and to the earthy ground, The leaves leave the tree, And enter the soil,

But everything decomposes, They leave the physical world, Only to feed the physical word, So I guess the leaves are different in fate, After all.