The Grass,
Withering, faint, unrecognisable,
The grass calls me to me sweet.
Leaves a sliver of sweetness,
Fleeting euphoria,
Highs unimaginable,
Giving of its sweet evergreen aroma if only for a time
Yet so strong that you cannot help but to cling to it for dear life.
Why do I yearn for the grass so?
When it is all around us – abundant like the air we breathe?
That is because the grass is the breath,
Pungent nostalgia that,
If ever last for so long as a day, lasts for a lifetime.
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 8:49 AM UTC
The Grass,
Withering, faint, unrecognisable,
The grass calls me to me sweet.
Leaves a sliver of sweetness,
Fleeting euphoria,
Highs unimaginable,
Giving of its sweet evergreen aroma if only for a time
Yet so strong that you cannot help but to cling to it for dear life.
Why do I yearn for the grass so?
When it is all around us – abundant like the air we breathe?
That is because the grass is the breath,
Pungent nostalgia that,
If ever last for so long as a day, lasts for a lifetime.