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You step on me, What am I?
You step on me
and sometimes pull my hair, and when some of you do it, you don’t even care.
I don’t even mind, which I am surprised to say because so many creatures do it to me every single day.
Some of you take care of me by feeding me, grooming me,
and sometimes
you give me medicine to keep me healthy and green.
You people are giants to me;
it’s all that I can see—the endless blues and whites and tall things that grow leaves—this was the life I was meant to embody.
To be shelter for others
and to be food for most.
To be stepped on by others
and to be cared for by most.
This is the life of grass,
so I guess I can’t boast.
© PropertyofKiMB
and sometimes pull my hair, and when some of you do it, you don’t even care.
I don’t even mind, which I am surprised to say because so many creatures do it to me every single day.
Some of you take care of me by feeding me, grooming me,
and sometimes
you give me medicine to keep me healthy and green.
You people are giants to me;
it’s all that I can see—the endless blues and whites and tall things that grow leaves—this was the life I was meant to embody.
To be shelter for others
and to be food for most.
To be stepped on by others
and to be cared for by most.
This is the life of grass,
so I guess I can’t boast.
© PropertyofKiMB
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