people ARE: just people...

My grass is torn green.
I'm not angry, but...
someone else might be.

God forbid the habit picks up;
in common practice, it is better
left unsaid.

And we've all seen a million fancy dressers.
And some flashy smiles thrown briskly round the place.
And nothing's left but threats and second-guesses.
And when the petals fall, so quickly does the grace.