Why is moss always looked down upon? Like a parasite present only to infest?

Don’t you see that it flourishes in places
Other greens feart of?

Why’s it that it’s unforthcoming nature
Is hardly ever celebrated?

Embellishing walls cast aside by the sun
Their self-reliance glossed over?

Why is it given the knock-back
When it imparts the most dreamy quality to cracks and clefts?

A rolling stone gathers no moss or
Does the moss give it a miss?