Today

Today I tripped on a Daisy, not the kind you pick and smell

today the Daisey was cracked and old, to the ground it fell.

yesterday I picker it up and it stood so tall and bold in color

wanting to be held, slowly the Daisy crumbled between

the fingers tips of once was, no longer will this Daisy be

the same in color nor will it have a shining coat, its dusty

and cold alone and old. another day will come and pass but

will it still be there, alone in the parkway with the cobble stone stair.