Maybe,

Maybe you don’t like me the way you did before…

But still shower affection like leaves are yet unturned.

Maybe,

Maybe you think you don’t know me anymore…

But did you wonder ever, that maybe you never knew me enough?

Maybe,

Maybe you think pride is getting all upon me,

Pride that will keep me away from my pack,

But did you ever think that maybe, you were never my pack?

Maybe,

Maybe you’ve have your map planned,

Planned enough to turn my army to hold its weapons against me,

But did this strike you ever, that, their weapons are already armed on the slingshot, aimed at you?

Maybe,

Maybe you presume that I am decieved by my mythical notions of good and bad,

But, with you defining all opposites you are in the plate of treachery too?
Maybe,

Maybe you have a thousand thoughts to slowly engulf me in and hurt me enough,

But did you know, there’s already the one last autumn leaf, hanging from my tree when others have withered, ruffled in the sultry winds and have fallen to the ground, trodden by many.

There’s the one last leaf, before I sink too deep.