Daisies unbloomed
in a field, swirling
ladies all in a
row
Awaiting appraisal
Their faces blush and naive;
fear and fullness resting
in the fat of their cheeks,
“The world is haunted deeply
And I fear we may never return”
their eyes all whisper
(And maybe only to me)
and I hear,
and maybe I wish I hadn’t.
I look to the sun
and the sky
holds no answers.
I look to the ground
the dirt smells fresh,
but some things are never fresh
(corruption laying its fingers on pale
skin of youngthings and flowers
since their inception).
Anyways,
the ladies,
Yes the ladies,
the worms take them,
and that's when everything goes to shit, really.