a sealed confession written on the inside of my eyelids,
visible only when wanted to be seen.
when opened, the confession becomes an admission,
what is will then have been.
only you or I may open it,
and only if we please.
let it whisper wind through the branches,
and tell tales among the trees.
may it foresee the future and remember the past,
but let it not change us, to our very last.
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 3:18 PM UTC
a sealed confession written on the inside of my eyelids,
visible only when wanted to be seen.
when opened, the confession becomes an admission,
what is will then have been.
only you or I may open it,
and only if we please.
let it whisper wind through the branches,
and tell tales among the trees.
may it foresee the future and remember the past,
but let it not change us, to our very last.
