I am unique. The last of we, I am the last of the leaves on a tree. no new sprouts to teach and remind before I fall free. when I am gone, who will remember? who will recollect all those that fell before me? ever looming the coming day once I fall, the branches decay, and the leaves and memories fade away to forgotten history. these are the times I am greatfull most, they are all that's left for me God, my life, and the memories.