作者Noamy (俠紫玄心)
看板poetry
標題Long Feud
時間Thu May 9 20:59:41 2002
Where, without bloodshed, can there be
A more relentless enmity
Than the long feud fought silently
Between man and the growing grass.
Man's the aggressor, for he has
Weapons to humble and harass
The impudent spears that charge upon
His sacred privacy of lawn.
He mows them down, and they are gone
Only to lie in wait although
He builds above and digs below
Where never a root would dare to go.
His are the triumphs till the day
There's no more grass to cut away;
And, weary of labor, weary of play,
Having exhausted every whim,
He stretches out each conquering limb.
And then the small grass covers him.
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