Poem 2 in series of 3 |
My eyes looked up, Into the soul of another, Seeing only perfection, In it’s every form, It dazzled and mystified them, A puzzle to be worked, Yet I feel no spark, Chimed my desolate heart, Never mind that, Ignored the eyes, As the replaced the rosy glasses From whence they spied The man and his perfect lies, Can you not see, Foolish eyes, That the man you seek, Does not do what he should? Cried the heart, I should feel joy and rapture, I should always beat faster! Yet none of these things, I have experienced, You are far too selective, Scoffed the eyes, Ignoring the heart’s desperate cries, How can I pass up such a prize as he? It is true, I want to see what you do, The heart wished, But I cannot ignore The absence that he does not ease, Find another, A better fit, And perhaps then, We may both reap the benefit, For I will not give myself away, When I cannot care This too often happens, Dear eyes, I ask you; Keep me safe Keep me true, The eyes saw the light, And removed the false lenses That had haunted them for so long, While the heart let go Of the man Who had been all wrong. |