I like the flowers
The dainty delicate daisies
That flood the green grass field
The meadows past my house
Plucking them up with my fingertips
Snapping their thin twine stems
Ripped from their roots
Taken from their flock
Alone and isolated
Their sweet white petals
Browning and yellow
Breath slowly fading out of them
Dissipating through the air
She begins to weave them
Bending, twisting, forcing them through each other
Weeding out the small and pathetic
Binding the rest
Their limp, sagging bones
The colour stains her hands
Elaborate patterns of precious thread
Calculated and precise, timestakingly, leaving her with
A rotten wilted crown
Bent in the middle, tarnished ends
It's chucked on the floor, to become one with the soil
While she walks away holding not even her toil
Context: this is written about how I feel as though I have put a lot of time and effort into all of my activities yet I never seem to get any credit or result from anything, no matter how much I exhaust myself with how hard I work, it all goes unnoticed. Everything feels pointless.
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All's Fair In Love And Lesbian Poetry
PoetryA poetry book written by myself about my own experiences and feelings and emotions.
