There was a green hydrant named Fred
Who found Himself lost in his bed.
He searched and he sought,
Reasons were bought,
But a thought always stuck in his head:
“If THIS is my life, I choose death.”
‘Twer me, I’d choose Fried Love instead.
Their grass isn’t greener;
Their houses aren’t cleaner.
What’s green is the Envy
Converting your Longing to Dread.
So stop feeling sorry,
Eject all this worry.
Freedom’s sole home is your Head.
(Thanks @lakegrass for the use of your photo)