What do you think of my poem. (Don't steal it.) I walked through the forest one day. The leaves were changing from the brilliant greens to golden yellows. I came across a fork in the path on left and one right. I chose the right one on the basis that it was the way home. I started to make my way down this path and the leaves were like the same before. I came across a stream that was flowing its rich colors breaking me to drink so I did. I felt rejuvenated. The ground was a bright brown and was beginning to be covered by red and golden leaves. The cool breeze whispered by my ear like chilly secrets being told. I wish I knew what was said, but it was as they spoke a different language. I stepped on a twig and it gave out a sharp crack and on any other day I would have been so thoughtfully alarmed. But this day was different, for once I felt at peace. I took the twig in my hand holding as a mother holds her newborn child. I looked at the crack in its hard-brown surface wondering why I was destined to step on it. I then threw it away as an old man dose to his garbage and walked gingerly some more. I knew I was almost home for I could hear the laughing and crying of the children of our small village. I made my way out of the magnificent and serene forest wondering when I would return. I looked back at it one more time trying to force the memory of the yellow and the browns, the reds and the blues into my mind before the wall obstructed my view.