Too Soft, the Wool is a Tougher Brick

Pampered leaves still fall to the ground
On sands or beds that they surround
Where feet would squash and dust will chase
As they quarrel with the sunlight,
As they hug and snuggle in their fight
Envying what is left of space
Too soft, the wood turns into wool
As brick too light we hate to pull
Inside and out, outside of place.

Fall! Like Niagara, let us fall
Fall with everything! Take it all!
Stalin was stiff as you agree
The cloud is our version of rain
A farm without a single grain
A fray without the right referee.
Before we come to realize
That tough is a softer disguise
For the strongest lax that could be

Leonell