In his eyes
Water flows backwards
And the years that have past
Remain entangled in the grass
That grows within his mind
With her clean white pale
she waters the lawn
That has become who he is
From a man to a dying blade
His artificial body is planted
Inside of her elegant garden
And he silently waits in his own womb
For that single daisy to finally bloom
but the world keeps spinning further away
While he holds onto his yesterday
- i made this poem for a project over the great gatsby.
