Daisy (A Poem)
"Slowly, I walk towards the moon"
Slowly, I walk towards the moon
I might have to go soon
The sun’s about to rise
Safely, I make myself go home
I don’t want to be alone
The sounds are about to go down, down, down
Do you remember the weather?
All icy and cold
I had never been so bold
When I took the canvas of your hand
And made it spread like the mountains we carry on our backs
Each of them weighing a ton
And I couldn’t help you none
When I left you there
Hanging, swaying
You will never let that go
Racing, pacing
You will send me some letters
That often get misread
And you chastise me about it
Until I tune you out
Let you down
Then you leave
And it’s exactly where we’re supposed to be
Am I too much? I ask all the time
Do I make you doubt everything?
Do I make you at least glad?
And you say, You’re fine
Don’t sweat it
At least I don’t regret it
But I’m thinking that sometimes you do
Even if you don’t admit it
Do you remember the weather?
All icy and cold
I had never been so bold
When I took the canvas of your hand
And made it spread like the mountains we carry on our backs
Each of them weighing a ton
And I couldn’t help you none
When I left you there
Hanging, swaying
You will never let that go
Racing, pacing
You will send me some letters
That often get misread
And you chastise me about it
Until I tune you out
Let you down
Then you leave
And it’s exactly where we’re supposed to be
I prayed like I’ve never prayed in my life
To an entity I am sure I am not familiar with
Its presence still lingers in the back of my mind
Whispers only something I cannot hear
But the wind before me
It tries to tell me the will to go on
Still don’t know what it is
It is just there
Not heavy, not light
Just sitting on the perch of my shoulder
Settling in
As if it had a right to
But I am too far gone
To notice that the being, its presence
Seems like it is faltering away
Into a place where I can’t reach it
Without doubting myself first
I tell you all these things
You tell me it is just the fabrication of my mind
That I want something so powerful
So intense to fix the broken pieces
Trying so desperately to glue itself back together
You tell me I have other stuff to worry about
Like bills, food, a chance at life
But I am stuck in this ever grey haze
Silhouetting itself over me
Casting a dark shadow of what it is
Onto the words I write now
About the Creator
Silver Graff
I am an aspiring writer, director of plays and movies, and currently a college student in a mild ton of debt. Despite this, I hold on to achieving my dream and create something that brings back theatre to its natural habitat.
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