Dried Leaves, Memories | The Scribbled Writings


Ever noticed dried leaves along the sidewalk?
Brown, sharp, rusty, motionless, without any charm.
A pile of dried leaves.
Just like some memories shattering us to a million pieces
but still clogging some of our brain cells.
The leaves were once green, fresh, just like our memories.
Depicting growth, hope, revival and renewal.
Memories that gave us pleasure about life,
That passed in moments of time, where actions happened.
As time passed, some of these memories withered.
Some without care, some without nurture.
They dried just like the leaves.
But here is the crux.
What do we do to those leaves? Those memories?
Do we have to stay in grief?
Do we have to sit over our shattered memories and be lifeless, mean?

Instead, put some use of these dried leaves.
Some form mulch, some form compost,
while some take shelter inside a book as a dried leaf.
The same goes with our memories as well.
Let some be a learning, some give you experience,
whereas the one which makes you motionless, just burn them.

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