Like a grain of wheat in the silence, but who to beg for pity for a grain of wheat?

Look at how things are:
so many trains,
so many hospitals with broken knees,
so many stores with dying people:
so who?
When?
Who to beg for eyes the colour
of a cold month,
for a heart the size of tottering wheat?

...I'm drowning in the damp of the
dew rotting in the shade,
and for a smile that doesn't grow,
for a sweet mouth...

Help me, leaves and rain of the...
Help the people how need.
Mercy...
Please let me have a grain of wheat.