Let me be, like
The tree that fell
In the forest,
And no one heard!
My poetry and me.
You did not see
Me, when I stood,
Why would you care,
If you see me,
When I fall?
And when birds,
Perched upon my
Branches, chirped
Their sweet songs,
You were not there,
Nor were you, when
Lizards camouflaged
To my many colors,
Or climbed to my peak
On sunny days.
And when fairies
Played on my leafy
Carpet, you did not
See their smiles.
I tell you this:
The rustled leaves,
The winds they make,
The swooshing sound,
Surely, they would,
Overwhelm you,
For If you knew
Not my stand,
You cannot know
The gravity
Of my fall.
Copyright © 2010 Leslie Alexis
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem