Picking Daisies

Picking daisies

In the lovely meadow

Carrying them by the armful

All bunched together

They say this is not real

I need to stop living in these delusions

Who are they to tell me

What I can and cannot believe

There is one soul

Who lets me believe what I wish

Lets me be truly happy

Living in this truth or fantasy

My hands are not as strong

As they used to be

I have trouble sometimes

Picking daisies from the ground

My eyes are not what they used to be

Sometimes things are unclear

And I cannot see

Where the daisies are

That one soul helps me

Find the daisies

And pluck them from the ground

Just to make my last days here wonderful

I know my time is running out

Soon I will leave this world

So for now I would like to spend it

Picking daisies



This poem can have some different meanings to it, but I did have one in mind while writing. I was told a story about how a little old lady in a nursing home had delusions and loved to pick flowers. There was one nurse that would help her pick flowers when it was really just the hallway so there were no flowers. The other nurses didn't really approve,but the one that helped didn't see the harm in it since her delusions weren't hurting anyone and they kept her happy. So that's the story behind the poem. I hope you guys liked it!

~*Dream Wish Peace*~