his eyes

So, I liked this guy once, and I wrote a poem about him . . . 


his eyes


like the grass of our native land

with a shade of grey

as the clouds roll across the moon on a clear October night

slightly hazel

dancing on the edges of the glass of our memories

and a hint of gold

like the sun setting on the horizon of the African pride lands

tell me so much

past, present, and future

–our first kiss

the warmth of his hand in mine

when we became one–

that words can’t express

dreams, ideas, stories

all told


his eyes

lost friends

first love

big hopes

even bigger aspirations

time lost

days spent


with me

with her

with them

with us

laughing, crying

fighting, forgiving

hating, loving

no words spoken

no sounds made

all told through

his eyes


About jnlletrry

Janelle. 20. Lots of things in my brain that I'd like to say but am too afraid to say. Lovatic. Reader. Writer. Semi-perfectionist. Music lover. Sister. Aunt. Daughter. Granddaughter. Friend. Student. Wants to make a difference. Avatard. Terry.

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