A man looked out at his black yard,
wanting to make good use of time:
I need to make one fine thing hard,
he thought, make it mine, only mine.
He stole a dozen doors of glass,
and built a house, and hung a sign
that said: You shall not pass.
Then he bought some seeds, a pot
and dirt, and began to grow grass.
Each night he stood inside and thought —
watering grass is not too hard.
Soon the roots began to rot—
in the greenhouse, out in the yard.
