Someone once said, that snakes hide in the grass, but that we hide in our lives.

Enough people had found those words meaningful, enough that it became a proverb.

Literally speaking, snakes do not hide in grass; they hide only by our descriptions–

Snakes sometimes live amidst the grass, and when so, they’ll hunt in the grass–

I don’t consider that hiding.

 

But if snakes were hiding, then why is it so that we might hide in our lives?

 

Someone else once said, that when the grass is cut, the snakes will show.

Enough people had found those words meaningful, enough that it became quoted.

Figuratively speaking, the words make equally good sense as it does in the literal;

No grass, exposes–my own description–the grass to me is what veils us: facades

That we build–from behind those, we hide.

 

But if the grass is superficial, then who are the snakes, or what are they?

 

Some people might say, that snakes are our enemies, and for those, maybe they are.

If you ask me, though, right now, I’ll say, that snakes are a part of our own very selves–

Hear me out: snakes are okay, they are natural–they don’t ever have to be good but,

They are never bad; you were told they were bad–you took great lengths to hide them.

Cut your grass, or don’t, and your snakes will show, or won’t.