another world; January

I wrote this sometime in January or December. I didn't like it. It seems better when I listen to Bright Eyes 'Lover I don't have to love'.

The grass is still green.
It didn't find time to die.
The blood was still falling
Long after Jane’d died.

Blue-collar men laugh in the bar,
They didn't know the bomb was
Hidden in the hood of the car.
It wasn't funny that their faces
Were all blown out
But it was Jane's birthday
She deserved a final bout.

Insignificant at fifteen
Glorious and voluptuous
At age nineteen -- pretty
Not handsome in the least.
She died young because
She tried to be someone
Who she wasn't meant to be.

The grass is still green.
It didn't find time to die.