look, boys –
I'm done with you;
all you do
is cause me grief.
this little leaf
that makes no noise
has bigger dreams
than forming heaps
for others' leaps,
or being pressed
under chests,
or caught in streams
ocean-bound.
to join the masses
on their grasses –
their highs below
the wind can blow
over fertile ground.
I'll take this leaf,
make like a tree –
growing free
towards the sun,
away from mun-
dane beliefs
that nothing meek
can overcome
the feeling, numb
to others,
that always smothers
what they speak:
the fear of being
misunderstood,
or no good,
or forgotten,
with umbrage rotten
and summer fleeing
before all real eyes,
see – nothing matters
for the tatters
of promises
or auspices
begot by lies.
so, boys, listen –
use your heart
for a start,
and speak your mind;
you may find
her cheeks will glisten,
maybe from joy
or else from pain,
but there's no gain
in being false
or building walls.
to shed her coy
foliage,
she needs to trust
it isn't lust
that drives your words.
what she heard
was a pledge
to be the one
who holds her strong,
rights the wrongs,
takes the time
to give her rhyme
and reason
for her life.
after showers,
blooming flowers
begin to ope,
giving hope
that love is rife.
TMK 10feb2008