Close to my house is a field of dancing daisies.
They dance and sway.
Dance and sway.
The majority of the day.
I want a daisy though,
I want it to dance for me.
Dance, I plead with a hopeful grin.
It tries to dance.
But it's petals begin to die in an awful brown moment.
The once angelic limbs that danced so gracefully,
Now brown and depressed.
With a soft sigh of death the daisy curses me.
For I am only a murderer.
But the daisy never knew.
Until it was too late.
