English 202 // 07
// Listen //
I often create poems
when I least expect it.
In the car,
on the swing,
under the lamp post,
while working.
So many times
I have no paper,
no pen
no pad
no touch of vapor.
They’re there in my head
to and fro
out in a whisper
there they go.
Those poems
so raw and so clean,
float off in the air
never to be seen
Again.
______________
I’m learning.
Learning to care less
about the
seemingly important.
And learning to care more
about the
seemingly less.
______________
The wind billows through the tree
ripping off the leave,
shaking it’s seams.
The leaves, they fall
leaving the tree,
making their way down to the ground
waiting to be seen.
Yet humans stomp them
beneath their feet
only to find that their beauty
is unseen.
They’re life
gone.
So quick and so sheen.
If only they could live
to tell there story.
Megan Elaine 
These poems are amazing! I connected with the im learning poem the most because I am also learning to care less about the things that are unimportant. It is quite a journey though. I also love the poem about how we stomp on leaves and they could not live to tell there stories. I can really hear your voice in this poem.
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I like your poems. They are so creative. How can you come up with them so easily? I always have problems trying to come up with even one.
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