A Withered Daisy

Blooming Flower

Grand endure suffered in three,

Old hope that had never been.

On those poems he'd never seen,

Died finally a withered daisy.

But that mouth of yours then opened;

Youth's now more difficult to comprehend.

Endless "no"s await yet again.

Just why this type reached seven?

Calmness yet humor in your voice endears,

But I'd say your smile and laugh are the best.

Understand that for you, that's rare.

Then it hit me, I'm a coward to know more.

Words we exchanged are only few.

Honestly, I never understood why

Your presence brings confusion yet also happiness;

No one has made me write like this again.

On this growing infatuation, I know it won't stay.

When I'd regret, I'd write again.

Great moments we shared is still worthy of thanks

Although it'd pain me to know this flower would soon wither away.

--

A/N: Fun fact! I wrote this during our class retreat XD and as you know, I did not research the meaning of daisies, so yeah, it just rhymed and it became my metaphor for dead love since then (My Last was composed much later. I just put it first since "Blooming Flower" is about a different guy from the first five) XD. 

Okay, no more backstories, I'll shut up-