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John Hayes
Poems
Dec 2020
You are my eyes, to Marilyn
when the world is cold
and hills are high
there must be eyes
to see a sky
When I can’t see
you are my eyes
you see beauty
in empty spaces
you find treasures
in unlikely places
when mine are absent
you are my eyes
Written by
John Hayes
78/M/Pittsburgh, PA
(78/M/Pittsburgh, PA)
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Tyler Matthew
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