See

SEERiously 

We grow weary with the ones

Who can only see what is before them

They who find boringly unprofitable 

The long sitting and staring

At the sun upon a blade of grass

Counting the infinity

Shimmering through with 

Every breeze moving it slightly

Yes, in your world of weights

And measures

We could have been anything

We wanted to be

But then, to your eyes

It wouldn't include worthless

Poetry.