One of seven 'experimental' poems of differing types on the same subject.

What makes the grass so green, my Daddy,
Why is it not coloured blue?
What stupid questions you ask, my child,
Have you nothing better to do?

Why is the grass so green, my Teacher,
Why is it not coloured blue?
It’s the chlorophyll that’s green, stupid,
The colour just shows through.

Why is the grass so green, my Tutor,
Why is it not coloured blue?
The grass absorbs other colours, dummkopf,
Leaving green as the only hue.

Why is the grass so green, my Lover,
Why is it not coloured blue?
It’s the colour of your eyes, my darling,
It’s just a reflection of you.

Why is the grass so green, my Child,
Why is it not coloured blue?
We coloured it in at school, my parent,
Just like they taught us to.

Why is the grass so green, my Colleagues,
Why is it not coloured blue?
It’s the other side of the fence, fellow worker,
Looked at with longing by you.

Why is the grass so green, my Friend,
Why is it not coloured blue?
It’s all there in your mind, Marrar,
A spliff rolled especially for you.

Why is the grass so green, my Traveller,
Why is it not coloured blue?
There’s a drought out over the heath, my brother,
But the lush lands of home are in view.

Why is the grass so green, my Vicar,
Why is it not coloured blue?
The Lord ordained it so, apostate
Faith tells us it is true

Why is the grass so green, my Hospice,
Why is it not coloured blue,
’Tis the fever of you mind, dying,
There’s no grass here for you.

Why is the grass so green, my Graveyard,
Why is it not coloured blue?
The turf is rich in worms, poor lost one,
The worms that feed off you.