A Human Falter

A beautiful blade of grass, gleaming of a sad dew sits on the ground accompanied by many. All are casual, some soft, some dry, Yet all so plain and simply satisfying. The human touch does not hesitate to fall on them, As they curl and deteriorate, But a force so powerful takes them on. A dry tired weed lays on the ground, Blooming of a yellow powder. It is dusty, but simply beautiful. The children come out to play, gentle at their touch. The weed is picked by the soft hands of the interested, Still innocent only to be left, With the collection of common blades. Oh, so beautiful.