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 Feb 12 Daisy Ashcroft
Life gave me lemons
A fitting gift
To squeeze into the wounds you left on me.
 Apr 2020 Daisy Ashcroft
 Apr 2020 Daisy Ashcroft
A creature of the night
gazed down upon the world,
stricken by the sights,
aghast at all the pain.
A leap,
a scratch,
a screech,
a flap
membranous wings unfurled,
a flight upon the clouds once more,
is all that could remain.
'No need for me', for easily
fears had reached their peak,
a relic of
a bygone age
when cellar doors would creak.
'Man can make his own pain,
the need for I no more,
below the glen, I'll go again,
like we have once before.
But come a time,
when mankind,
can with themselves peace keep,
from out our dusky homes we'll crawl,
and chaos we will reap.'
I'm sorry for us all
searching for shelter
in a hail storm of lies
lost our faith
in the future
thinking our time
will be the end of time
so sad
it makes me wanna cry
can't be right
or left
don't know
who to believe
what to say
for all humanity
the beauty of nature
burning away
in blackened trees
we're surrounded
by the ashes
of limbs and leaves
so hard to see
but surely it's true
it's not too late
to rescue our fate
but that handle was made for his hand
hand - handle
handle - hand

the fingers would close
around it to never let go
It had to have flesh around it
at all times
But the blade...
the blade was still naked. He couldn't let
the blade naked
It wasn't fair

"So that's why you stabbed your
mommy then?" the psychiatrist asked him.

"Yes," he said.

"The knife is more important
to you than mommy?"

"The knife listens. Mommy doesn't."
 Apr 2019 Daisy Ashcroft
I envy the moon above;
He doesn’t live in this world
And experience
How spiteful words
Make a heart
Die in silence.
I envy the moon so much,
For he doesn’t cry at night
While looking at the sky
And losing a trace of light.
He’s just lying up above,
But he catches a rain of love.
He captures people’s eyes
Despite of the thousand stars
Shining so bright
In the night.
I envy the moon above,
Because the cloud
Embraces him
And serves as his shroud
When cold tears
Pour like beers.
The sun supports
Him to shine,
Regardless of his dark spots
And keen, murky signs.
I envy the moon at night;
Though sometimes he may be wry,
He can still defy the dark sky;.
He can withstand the doughty dusk
And roll like a gleaming husk.
I envy the moon so much,
But sometimes, I wonder…
“Does the moon envy me, too,
Because no matter
How plenty the stars are,
In the sky, next to him,
He still seems to be alone –
A misfit and an odd stone?”
 Apr 2019 Daisy Ashcroft
He doesn't burn photographs
He doesn't join therapy sessions
He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes
Nor he drown himself into alcohol
He scratches his wounds daily
And never let them heal
He doesn't try to get rid of the pain
Instead he let it grow on him
He waters the seed of sorrow with his tears
He feeds it with the manure of old memories
He takes it to sleep with him
And nurtures it in himself
Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain
Until his fragile heart can bear no more
And his soul starts overflowing with emotions
That's when he dip his pen into this pain
And empty his heart on a piece of paper
He bares his soul for us to feel
He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come
That's how true poetry comes into existence

— The End —