Marie WardAlonge

Picking Daisy

No sweet words or encouragement from you ever came.
Just like a flower, your ego needed to be watered.
You enjoyed playing your little games.
Your words often bitter gave many people shame.

Back in the day,
You stood in my way.
You always had a say.
You longed to be right.
Mouths were kept closed.
The word was out.
You had a tendency to fight.

I was a late bloomer.
I didn't know what I wanted to be.
However, you thought you knew me.
My talent was diverse and I had to develop my skills.
My spirit you tried to kill.

Never allowing your tongue to
go to waste,
You were forever in my business.
You were always on my case.
Definitely, you were a thorn in my side.
I hid my displeasure.
I had to be bigger than you.
As I told you, I would keep trying.
My sense of purpose was one of my guides.

You were like a bad seed
Who grew into a wild weed.
I sensed you wanted to become a flower.
(But) you were too mean and sour.

You would not allow others to grow.
Around you, the crowds would gather
While you put on your hurtful show.
At the time, I didn't know what I wanted to be.
I knew I didn't want to be like you.
That was the key.
Reflecting, you were not the only crazy.
However, I picked you as my least favorite flower, the daisy.

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Topic(s) of this poem: talking

Poem Submitted: Saturday, September 29, 2012
Poem Edited: Monday, December 5, 2016

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