The eyes, those eyes.

The volt of the secrets that still applies.

The words, that word that wakes up in each chapter and cries.

They want to fill the book up and put the vowels in disguise.

The smiles, these smiles.

They are made up of whimsical sighs.

The lips, these lips that whispers goodbyes.

They now taste of honey that can paralyse.

That mind, this mind’s observation remain surmise.

Now sharp and see through any pretty lies.

Her eyes, her eyes now shine as she is now very wise.

Poem by Sarah Martin


2 thoughts on “THESE EYES

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