Everytime we passed that spot,
I'd shudder inside.
Daffodills danced all along my journey,
Except at that spot.
There, they had become ensnared by
Their slender stems.
The harsh wire and twisted,
Squeezing the life away.
They hung, head bowed like
So many misjudged peasants.
And as everyday, I passed those
I too, could feel the vice-like grip
Around my own throat.
Your heartless, deceitful love,
Everyday choking me more.
And I would kick and try to scream,
Fighting to the end, until alas,
You would kill me, again.