I remember your eyes.
The stories they told,
the shadows behind them.
Black pupils,
dark chocolate surrounding.
Red lines creeping along a black background.
Never stopping to close them.
You were afraid of missing the moment.
“The moment of what?” I would ask.
“You know. The moment,” you replied.
Those smiling eyes of yours.
They saw more than you ever told.
A couple of Nazis,
a president shot,
hippies screaming, “bloody murder!”
They never cried those chocolate eyes.
“Eyes are for seeing” you told me.
“Can’t waste them by washing the moment away.”
You never lost that moment,
the raging sea of moments.
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hey, cool poem. Im glad that you finally decided to put your stuff out there, cause i think you have skillz!!
ReplyDeleteWoW. So much So good. Don't know why this poem reminded me of Robert.
ReplyDeletehmmm very interesting...:)
ReplyDeletewas this poem written about a certain someone??? inquiring minds want to know.....
ReplyDelete