*cutting*

Cutting the lawn, without even caring if it grows or not.
I can't give a damn now, I can care about you now.
I am cutting the lawn, layer by layer.
Maybe if I continue I could see it bleed.
The lawn can't complain, as once I couldn't complain.
The lawn has no eyes to see and mantain no mass.
The grass, gray or green, keeps silence in its land.
Keeps the scars on the ground, the mind on the sky.
And lets no bug bother it.
The lawn is cutted, and bleeding.
Green blood, oh my blood.