The tree limbs creak with the wind as the rain pours upon the grass,
who's blades cut through the dirt to point straight up like soldiers.
The tulips in the garden, yellow and purple, strangled by weeds overgrown.
I can feel them.
Their jealous veins pulsating under the soil.
They lash out at one another for space and nutrients.
Each hoping for a better grip to the ground,
afraid that one day they will fall into the sky.
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