My eyes seem to blur in a whirlwind

As the wind blows my hair;

I glance down and my eyes

Fall on a broken stem—

I gaze at its destruction,

Its pure white petals, no longer a gem

And I think that maybe I

Am that daisy.

With its shattered self

I sympathize;

I realize that I too am a child

In this grown-up world.

Cars speed by and I see

One petal departs

Ever so slowly.

I am far from

The definition of impressive.

I am broken.

Maybe I am

That daisy.


About heatherd001

Hello! My name is Heather. I'm sixteen years old and I love to write (poems mostly) but I'm working on some story- and novel-writing. Writing is a creative outlet for me.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s