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Grass
The green grass stood there, insignificant.
Seasons change, rains come and storms and snows.
We people jump and stamp and step and spew
On the thin and small pointy green blades.
We people run our cars and vans and trucks
Over the tiny little green insignificant lives.
Seasons change, rains and snows turn to sun.
The tiny little green blades remain standing.
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