Fallen Leaves Poem by Cash Onadele

The foliage greenness has faded, lost its luster,
The golden tip of the stalk now harsh and brown.
The lip tips caked and hidden veins reveal cracked.
Predictably dislodged by a strong whirly wind,
It creeks till loosened off the main stem, stalk and all,
Dancing the see-saw medley before hitting the clay below,
Angled or flat at its landing, determines future usefulness.
Symbolic plunge down the ladder of preferment?
It happens to the best, only, we leave it all behind,
An evening we don’t think about, smoked!
A chapter of our memoirs, skipped or hurried in rendition,
Everything appears mysteriously, a shadow of unplanned.
Shall I be happy whenever I look in the mirror?
Soliloquizing “You are not who you were anymore”
As a rule, decision is made, we all get behind it.
Every leaf must fall sometime, it is inevitable.
Now, the question, “is it useful in the new stage of its life? ”
“Does it transform the humus where lain? ”