Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, Daisies are not fit for Poets, and neither am I for You

Daisies are not fit for poets 

They smell too much like the first rain of spring 

Are too bright to bring out more than a sun

That doesn’t burn until it implodes

They don’t have the same nostalgia of forget-me-nots 

When you know you’ve never once stood out in someone’s mind 

Enough

To be remembered 

So you beg with flowers to not be forgotten

The petals are fragile but don’t fall apart as easy as forgive-

Able funeral lilies. They don’t cry like bleeding heart 

Flowers but get torn apart with “he loves me he loves me not”

Daisies are for people who smile and aren’t afraid to confess their love

Daisies are for people who get asked out on dates by people who see beyond a body, a face

Daises get to hear I love you’s on Valentines day 

The only flower I know how to write about is the flower 

I never asked for but keep with me all the same and

Daisies are not fit for poets but

You gave one to me and I kept it and oh

How I want it and oh how I wish it

to want me too.