Grass

which side of the grass will I end up on ...

will I fall ..?

or,

will I rise ..?

I,

don't make that choice.

I just hear the cries.

the cries that fall,

from painful eyes.

a new page, yes.

but, no erase ...

stagger and stutter drunk

dazed and unfazed.

waiting for the grenade ...

If it ever drops ....,

I'll pull the pin upon my own head.