The grass is much greener so fresh and untouched
You glance at the memory when yours was as such
Considering landscapes around you are spent
You run to the Summer of your discontent
The grass becomes greener the longer you stare
A blossom much brighter than all in your care
They yearned for your nourishment; you gave despair
And thus without petals they cannot compare
The grass growing greener while your flowers thirst,
One for each time you have dived in headfirst,
For you they each promised a life more attained
But why save those souls when there's more to be gained?
The grass is much greener the further you fall
While browning small plants through your memory crawl
When will you notice? When are you sure?
A flower, when cared for, will be the most pure.