A/N: After first reading F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby for a school assignment, I was entranced; I couldn't get enough of the era, or the characters. One day, during some frightfully boring lesson, I wrote this piece, and e-mailed it to myself to work on later. Now, I'm a bit of an e-mail hoarder, and this was quickly lost in the recesses of my inbox. Today, purging my inbox for the first time in over three years, I came across this. I edited it a bit for spelling, and what grammar I could, but it has been basically left as it was when I first wrote it. I do hope you enjoy it, and would very much appreciate it if you would be so kind as to write a review.
These days, Daisy rarely thought about him,
The man she at one time had hoped to marry,
And when he did come to her mind,
As his name was to pass her lips, along with a tired sigh,
She would push the idea of him away.
She would push until it lost the will to resist,
And left on its own accord.
It was rare for Daisy to allow herself to dwell on the past,
And it pleased her to know that the times she did think of him were becoming few and far between;
All the more as the collection of new, then old, calendars piled up by the windowsill.
She would let a secret smile pass her lips;
It was a congratulation of sorts.
It was a congratulation of denial,
That was what it was.