Poems (collection 1.0)

The Grass

All of our strings cross across the world
Going from place to place, from boy to girl
There's not a single soul who doesn't have a string
But some are broken, snapped and frayed
From this evil world and all its evil things
Some souls become decayed
But we grow back up from the dirt
We become something better, new, full of life
We become something of worth
We are the grass, free and wild, but not without strife

The wind blows where it wants to
The winds goes everywhere and nowhere
It blows through our hair
And the hair of graves, the grass
Our new lives interrupted
As we blow away
Our foundations not solid
Our roots not strong
But we soon realize
We are stronger than we thought
We are stronger than the world wants us to believe
We may be young or old but we are human either way
We should get a say
In our own lives
Sometimes we only get to control the little things
And bigger ones step up and surprise us
But we stop caring
We keep going
We keep living
Until we can't
And then we stop
And something new is created
And the cycle goes on
Until the end of time