Wheatgrass

She said, “Come meet me in the fields,
And I will give my love to you.”
He went and waited, with a heart,
But now, it’s understood —

That love is cruel when it’s not kind,
And power’s shown by giving pain,
And wheatgrass blows in empty fields
Where men give up on love
For good

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

4 thoughts on “Wheatgrass”

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