They said the grass was greener,

Whispers carried on the breeze,

But I found myself on painted land,

Kneeling, begging roots to breathe.

The soil was dry, untouched by care,

No seeds of love were sown,

Just brushstrokes made to mimic life

In a field I walked alone.

You smiled like spring was in the air,

But never felt the rain,

Never gave what gardens need

To blossom out of pain.

I watered sile...