Most Days

I wander through a garden of daisies and daffodils

Filled with sweet scents and familiar fragrances

The best feeling is to let yourself fall and be covered in a blanket of dirt and earth and let your mind roam into its deepest corners

Grounded, underneath your own muddy, and soily fortress; yet adrift on a flowing river of gentle memories

Even the worst ones have become bittersweet,

like licorice which you've now grown accustomed to taste

I wish I could go home, but my heart is in the past

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/6zrbjh/157_am/ https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/6zt1gd/dicks_out_for_harambe/