Greener on other side

Crisp morning air, filled with fragrance of fresh flowers
Birds chirping in trees, I can be lost for hours
Dew beneath my feet, on overgrown blades of grass
A manicured lawn? Nah, it's just what amassed

Beauty they say, is in the eye of the beholder
I may see a statue, while you just a boulder
I thought it was beautiful, but they did not agree
Thinking the birds sang better, in other trees

Abstracted by not haves, we quite often forget
Blessings we have, and end up with regret
From afar, a plastic garden may look amazing
But the flowers don't smell, and plastic birds, they don't sing