As a child, I was told of a magical way,To chase away the nightmares, and keep the fear at bay.
Just think of a memory, happy and bright,
And watch as the darkness fades from sight.
So, I sat there, lost in thoughts of old,
Of flowers picked with grandma, precious like gold.
The memory came flooding back, clear as day,
And with it, my fears drifted away.
The scent of daisies, so sweet and pure,
Brought back the sunshine, so warm and sure.
Her voice singing " You Are My Sunshine",
Filled me with peace, like a love divine.
But now she's gone, at rest in the earth,
And memories, once sweet, bring a pain worse than hurt.
For the flowers that once brought joy and cheer,
Now pile up, in a way that's unclear.
In my delusion, I pick daisies once more,
And memories blur, like waves on the shore.
But now she is the flowers, vibrant and alive,
And "sunshine" brings pain, sharper than a knife. 
My tears fall like the rain, heavy and true,
As I struggle to understand and make it through.
But even in sorrow, her love remains,
A light in the darkness, that forever sustains.