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Bug !'s avatar

I always enjoy another good young poet, and this is not an exception. This heartfelt poem hits home with the death of my relative, and how I coped.

“I died the grass green,

So in my life? I could move on.

The grass is a fake green it's not real,

It's all just chemicals,

That is designed to make you feel again, feel.”

This stood out to me, fake it till you make it, huh? But I think you must move on, grass is still grass, even if it’s held with an artificial cast for a while. It takes time for the real grass to grow between the cracks of the artificial ground, but it will be green- real green- again, always.

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