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| The leaves are clinging to the tree, Unwilling to admit it's fall. They see their friends have broken free, But hug their branches strong and tall. They're losing all their greenish hue And some have even turned to brown. But they're afraid of something new; They do not want to spiral down. We, too, resist the winds of change And cling to habits tried and true. We welcome not a thing that's strange Until God shows us what to do. | ||
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