Daffodils dancing in the wind,
The Chesire Cat without his grin.
Caught in the twilight of a dream,
rather fantasy than what reality deems.
Falling over without a fight,
Losing light, and losing sight.
Walk down again, that same old path,
Leave words unspoken, of such a dearth.
Oh, how must have Sisyphus felt,
with that same hand, Life has dealt.
Daffodils, daffodils, behind my back,
Laced with qualms, filled with lack.
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