The day the daisy died was a day I'll never forget, it would spring to life during the morning sun and greet the world with its beautiful petals and positivity.
The day the daisy died my morning took a unexpected turn, for I had seen the eyes of death before but never during times of possible comprehension.
Now, here I sit as the questions flood my mind. Was it Covid , or something unseen, did the daisy go in their sleep or pass peacefully?
I ask the same question about the day my brother died or the day I watched my friends B and K fight for their lives. Death...sneaks up on us like a throned vine waiting to strike and squeeze the souls out of its occupants.
My somnophobia has returned , I can feel it crawling in the back of my mind like a large spider waiting for it's prey to relax. I inhale...the paranoia triggered...this is what my life has become every since the first time I witnessed the venomous vine take a life, he was 10 and he was my brother.
The wind , the sky and the hearts of certain people were forever changed ...the day the daisy died.
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Writings from the soul
Poetryhello my name is Xander and these are my original poems/ short writings. I write what's real to me, what's my reality and what is raw but also some are just burst of inspiration and I write as they come to me and will keep them organized. feel fre...
