I sit waiting for the end
Thats what I do,
I grow, I breath, I fall, I die
I leave without a trace, no one to tell my story, no one to even remember.
I seem to do nothing nothing at all,
But everything does something, right?
Maybe just maybe I can be remembered.
So I sit and waiting for the end, waiting to be remembered
Will it happen?
Will I be remembered?
I must and I will,
For I am only a leaf,
But I will remembered.