Golden Daisies

All these wilting pansies everywhere....Sheesh...

I'm sick and tired of this worlds rhapsodies

On and constructed of full-on self pity.

A victim of it myself, In my own right

But wishing still for the virus to vanish.

I'm one of the majority when it comes to feeling pain

While I have nothing real to cry about 

I continue to time and time again,

And wish that I did.

Though maybe the lack of reason is perspective talking,

Like anyone else I've been through my fair share,

My view seems to have that recluse mind of its own,

And there's no way I can control it.

Im that frilly daisy in your hand

Wishing for a reason to be sad 

While knowing others wish the opposite,

Insert the first world problems joke here.

I'm just angry at myself for my selfishness

For placing myself in harms way on a whim

Hurting for those who are rightly so,

And perturbed by those who aren't. 

I've fallen so deep into someone else's emotions,

That no longer can I even write my own.

The poetry I regurgitate onto paper is just that,

Bringing to light something that I can't feel constantly.

I don't even know who or what I am anymore...

A shell for those who cannot speak?

A woman whose eyes can see all but herself?

Or am I merely a little golden daisy who means well in a meadow of just that, golden daisies.

Author's Note

One of only three poems about myself. Please review.

Reviews

[Isabelle Faye]

I really liked this. The flow was nice and smooth and it presented an idea that I'm sure is common to many. It seems we all want problems, and then want them gone when we have them. I guess humans are just eternally pining for more.

[Riley Bray]

"The grass is always greener on the other side," isn't that right? Oy.

[Isabelle Faye]

Yep, exactly.

[Just Kim]

I really enjoyed this write, deep and emotional

[Riley Bray]

Thanks. :)