Dear Daisy,
I am well aware of your capability,
Victimizing your prey with your innate tendency
To poison them with your potion of lethal grin.
Disguised as an innocent form of love on your outer skin.
We all know your love is ephemeral,
Has an expiration date shorter than dairy
Fake like our childhood’s tale of fairies.
I am, at this moment, honest but formal,
Because you filthy, rich people are all pompous,
Nothing but a mere show being all ostentatious.
So here I present, along with my manner,
My most polite form of my disdain towards your demeanor.
Listen you indecisive bovine!
The gravity of love you might not quite understand, fine!
But the simplest part of a promise,
It must be kept, there is no compromise.
Period.
But you just had to leave him, didn’t you?
Was it because you thought he’d never come back?
Was it because you were scared?
Did loyalty have an expiration date too?
Or was it because Tom had more greens in his pocket?
Digits in his bank?
Fame to his name?
Was love just another careless commodity to your expense?
Did love come with a price tag?
I hope it came with a free return policy,
In case you change your mind about Tom too.
Dear Daisy,
I am grateful that I have no son,
For I don’t want a boy living his life facing the past,
That he forgets to grow up into a man.
This marriage, I will not simply allow.
For I don’t find my backyard as a soothing spot for a wedding,
That will turn into a funeral.
I will not outlive my son.
But I cannot promise anything,
You taught me how fragile promises are.
Dear Daisy,
If you decide to ever stick to your guts,
I hope this letter serves as the reason to your final decision,
For you do not see your careless heart.
I hope one day, you will have a long staring contest with the monster in the mirror,
And come into terms with your melancholy reality,
That you are incapable to love.
It is quite a mystery,
How you were loved by Gatsby.
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