{"sf1_id":208459,"sf2_id":null,"title":"Poem: The Grass is Soft","author":"Brandie","words":104,"posted_at":"2010-12-31T05:39:00.000Z","tags":["Death","Night","Poem","dying"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/208459-poem-the-grass-is-soft","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/view/208459","image_url":"https://www.sofurryfiles.com/std/thumb?page=208459\u0026ext=.jpg","description":"","content":"I lay here slipping  \nand look to the bright sky.  \nThe grass feels so soft.  \n  \nThe sky begins to change.  \nPurples and pinks appear  \nwith no single sound  \n  \nThey blend together  \nto form the night's blues and blacks.  \nStill, the grass is soft  \n  \nA light catches my eye.  \nDozens appear from no where  \ncover the night sky.  \n  \nThe air pricks my skin  \nlike a cold hand grabbing me.  \nStill, the grass is soft.  \n  \nThe colors come back  \nthe sun and warmth come too.  \nAll but me are well.  \n  \nMy life is now gone  \nMy body lies cold and stiff.  \nStill, the grass is soft.\n\n  \n  \n\n"}