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Life of Grass
Albeit grass, to a handful, surfaces vain,
The very being of it,
Mounting ubiquitously, reminding of equivalence,
Endures incessant pain.
Dedicates altruistically, as victuals, to others,
None, wryly, cares whatsoever,
We, at times, laze on the carpet, natural,
Tumult of exuberance, through its vein, runs.
To be found at a pose, shoddier,
Fixing eyes on the heavens, forever.
