SIGH
Never ask the sun to rise on time,
for drizzles at summer nights
followed by a sky of brilliant stars.
A tiny blade of grass, pale and voiceless,
waiting on the edge to be caressed,
or trampled, as Nature sees fit,
belittled by storms carelessly violent.
Ask what you’ve given, not
how you’re governed, as you wait
for bits of attention, drops of rain.
Follow thy leader, know he’s weak
to hear his weakness loud and clear,
a blind man blaming the darkness
surrounding his heart, wiping the slate
clean of hurtful words and deeds.
Follow thy leash, be pushed and pulled
as Nature sees fit. A leaf shall fall,
wither and die, from an autumn branch
willingly let go of frustration and rage.
Voices under the Sun 陽光下的聲音 