Bring me home

Beneath
rotten leaves.

I am talking,
I swear I am.

But the soil is
muffling my words.

Autumn was my
favourite season.

I am waiting,
I swear I am waiting for you
to find me.

They hid me well,
though.

I guess you
will find me,

eventually.

I lie
by a beech
covered with wonderful
red leaves.

My legs are somewhere else
though.

My arms, too.

I didn't mean to
scare you.

But I think
this is me,

now.

I'm cold and I feel
a bit lonely, though.

Please,
can you bring me home?

Daddy must be worried.

Can you hear me?
Will you bring me home?

Mummy must be worried.