OUCH! You idiot, get off of me. My head hurts. You're squashing me. Some people are so inconsiderate. How would you like to be stepped on all the time. If you were a piece of grass, you would hate it. I just hate being a piece of grass. Let me tell you about my life.

I was born in a large family in black soil. I was fed very well. After about one year, my troubles began. Kids began playon top of me. They sat, jumped, and lay all over me. Everyday I would be bruised from head to toe. Then at night bugs would crawl over me. Some would even bite me.

What I hated the most was being fully grown. Once a week a monstrous creature would come and cut off my head, but it would always grow back.

Whenever winter came, I would get very sick. I would become pale and cold. Then spring would come and I would be well again, but people would still step on me. Nobody cares anymore. As you can see, my life is very miserable, so I wish you would get off of me, now, because you're squashing my head.