Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 29
Were her eyes blue?
I can't remember.
Was it hot or cold,
August or December?
Did she have green eyes?
I still can't see her.
She's long gone,
Just like the weather.
Maybe she had brown eyes,
Just like leather.
But now she's left,
Maybe its for the better.
No she had gray eyes,
I wrote her a letter.
It got sent right back,
With a return-to-sender.
Max Vale
Written by
Max Vale  M/Somewhere
(M/Somewhere)   
  332
   Rosie Toes and SUDHANSHU KUMAR
Please log in to view and add comments on poems