Daisy
On a humid afternoon, I found a wilting Daisy.
I dug her up and took her home.
A struggling Daisy sits on my windowsill.
I gave her water, I gave her soil.
She drank them up, but they were poison.
A dying Daisy sits on my windowsill.
"You hypocrite," she cried, as she wilted.
Falling hair accompanied by falling petals.
A dead Daisy sits on my windowsill.
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