Dead Grass


The grass is green
and so am I
because I’m sick
off the tears I cry.
The grass turns brown
as it goes to die;
you’re killing me secretly
every time you lie.
The grass fades away
as the warmth passes by;
I’m feeling even colder
than from the last time we said goodbye.




written: 10.16.03
© 2004, Emily Godsey

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