Wilted Daisies
I picked these wilted daisies
Especially for you,
Hoping that they somehow
Would grow as if new.
It seems that they didn't,
And now I feel bad,
For wilted, dying daisies
Were all that I had.
For lack of something better
They became my bouquet
And I gave them to you
Hoping they would be okay.
"But roses they are not" you said.
"I'd prefer poison oak."
And then you laughed at me,
As if it were a joke.
These decomposing daisies,
Drooping in my hand
Were my gift to you,
And I'd hoped you'd understand.
So now I say goodbye,
And I ask you for your pardon,
As I use these rotting daisies
To fertilize my garden.
happybrew
__________________
Board Certified Beeropathic Physician
For only a small fee I can recommend the type of beer to cure what ales you.
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