The Soft Grass


The busy existence

I run to keep up with

But still all ways this distance

still trip and fall

I wish

It would just all




Everything falls to the ground

All that is left is grassy fields and the crowd

There i see them

A stranger on their knees

I run with the breeze

And fall in front of them


I cry out


Then out of my mouth comes everything that is wrong

All that i hate and that is unsure

But then they hug me

And out comes everything that is gone

everything that makes them hurt and all they endure


We cry


And leave our tears on the grass

I stand there hand in mine

we run and the pain we pass

And if we trip we will land on the soft grass





To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.