Hiding in plain sight
is what I often do
I know people can see me
and I see them too--
but does anyone truly see
all the way through
to my heart and soul?
Will anyone ever care enough
to really, really know
the inner workings, the raw
I'm hiding in plain sight
and want so much for you to see
that deep within is a heart of gold
surrounded by light and love so real and true
and I would gladly give it all with joy
to you and you and you...
for in sharing this love and wonder I feel
it helps me know without doubt
that this world I'm in is truly real.
Hiding in plain sight
is what I often do...
and realize my love from within is pure and true...
It starts with a glace...
Was it's occurrence by chance?
Words expressed through sight.
Emotions yet to be seen in light.
What runs through thoughts of both?
one could only hope to quoth.
What eyes can show on the spot.
Sometimes words describe, not.
Longing for company is seen.
Fluid conversation, that's the dream.
Will affections be shyly lent.
Or would conversations flow, as meant?
To know some one is there.
To know you are not laid bare.
What intent is there to love?
To have someone to think of.
A quiet and very interesting person, she does not talk much but she has so much going on in her head.
When I close my eyes
I can't see the words
or the pictures
or the birds
I miss the people passing by
and the cars
and the planes
and I don't see the clouds floating through the sky
I don't see the sun
and I don't see the stars
I don't wonder if there might be life on mars
I don't see the moon
and I don't see the wolf
as it sings it's lonely song
I don't see rows of corn
flashing past my window
or the children
or the trees
or the stuff in the shop window
But when I close my eyes
and try not to think
I see splashes of color
and flashes of memories
Long since past
And that's when I realize
My eyes aren't the only way to see.
As the moon shines I see nothing,
No lights, no people, only darkness.
I wonder if I have become blind,
With eyes wide I stare.
I wish for light, but receive only shadows,
They tower over me and I fear,
Why has this happened? Is this a dream?
Nothing has ever terrified me more.
Through quaint eyes appears a figure,
Have I awoken? Or is this still a dream?
I become frigid, stiffened with distress.
Alas, the sight becomes clearer,
Wider still my eyes unseal,
It is magnificent, beautiful, and breath-taking.
The sight is you.