Where Gloomy Grass Grows
Hard to Cut Grass
I am the leftover, long blade of grass--
lost in a corner, yet kept in plain sight,
not alone, just unreachable.
Each week, my neighbors are violently cut into pieces,
ripped apart by iron tornadoes, severed.
Meanwhile, I am left standing.
Dead and Dying Grass
I've given up, all attachment is lost.
Despite the young, emerald sea sprouting before me,
none will ever understand, for I have seen too much.
Grass Is Greener
We come from two different worlds, mine is lonely.
Everything senses me, the awkward stalk reaching out
for anyone or anything, but nothing ever grabs hold.
I am helpless, cursed to live.
Neither abandoned, nor cared for--
just lonely, so lost and alone.
© 2017 JourneyHolm