I am an ordinary blade of grass. While enjoying what the nature gives me, I should also contribute a little to add color for the nature.

Who, is the one that humans cherish the least--- It's you---the little grass. In the cold winter, you are frozen into a withered yellow, and people still add fire to burn your fertile soil; you become无形无踪, leaving only a patch of gray-black soil. You, who cannot bear loneliness, lie contentedly in the embrace of the fertile earth, treating it as a comfortable warm bed, warm and soft. When spring comes, you slowly break through the soil and are reborn.