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