Even if They Don't Listen

It's not the minds
Who hear you
Nor the eyes that see
But the strength and wisdom
You bellow forth
Brave and mightily

Though deaf ears receive you
And sight lost within
'Tis the speaking that matters
The unkeeping-in
So stand there spewing
Or silent such
And produce something similar
With a far different touch

What Becomes

With heavy lids and heavy heart
I close my eyes to sleep
And in the morning, eyes alight
But heavy heart haunts thee
Another day becomes a ghost
Another week ... then months
Sleep soothes the sleepiness
Yet, what relieves these ghosts?

Fall loves the cold, turns the leaves
Kisses them with color
And, I the leaf left behind
Clinging, mangy brown
The only leaf left behind
While others find the ground

And, what becomes of one lost leaf
One who can't get down,
Painted quite unlike the others
Torn and slighted
Odd-shaped and spited
Did you know a leaf can frown?

And what becomes,
And what becomes ....
When others come and go,
And go the cycle as they should
Sleep underneath the snow
But what becomes of one who's lost
Numb in winter's breeze
What becomes when all have gone
Save one bitter, lonely leaf?