Your eyes, like a child's.

Reminds me of innocence and being free.

As I look into them, I see my reflection,

But what do they see in me?


Do they see the monster I have been?

With all the violence and hard liquor?

Have they seen the blood that I shed?

Have they seen how the crimson has grown thicker?


Or do they see the sunny past,

when we were young, and bells chimed?

When we didn't care about the darkness,

and cared less, if nothing rhymed?


You and I will never change,

through the days, of love and strife,

now take your pretty eyes off my face,

and look forward, to the beauty of life.