We are not the careful one
With the neat plait down her back.
We are not the pleasant one
With the honeyed words and smile.
We are not the brazen one
With the fearless gaze and spirit.
We are but rebels, the wanderers at heart.
With the lights in our eyes all aflame.

Nobody cares about the leaves
Nobody cares about the falling leaves
The fallen leaves.
Nobody notices their intricate ballet
The way they twirl and float
Pirouetting down in a delicate spiral
Resting momentarily on the earth
Until a higher calling shoots them up again
The stronger the storm the higher they fly

Nobody cares about the leaves
Nobody cares about the browning leaves
The lifeless leaves.
Nobody notices their steady transformation
The way they live and die
Draining themselves of colour and vitality
As they gift us their lives, for ours
Tiny miracles of time encapsulated
Into a carefully crafted masterpiece

That nobody seems to care about.

Nobody cares about the leaves
Nobody cares about their pretty little lives
Nobody cares about their pretty little deaths
Their petty little lives, their petty little deaths.
No. Body. cares.