The beautiful leaves

fall to the ground upon the

the wild grass that knows.

It knows the things that

happened that one wrongful night
 
that one that you cried.

Something’s that should not

Be spoken to the world

they will not accept.

So be glad that the

grass can not speak or you would

not live with your heart.

This is a really professional sounding poem. I like how you made it seem like the grass had ears and could remember that night, whatever happened. Now I'm curious!