Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2010
So frequently do we hear
of the intoxicated eyes
with nothing behind them.

So frequently do they face
repudiation
from the isolated introvert.

They can't see straight
they can't think straight
they willfully walk the line of self destruction.

These eyes swirl around me,
and here I stand:
confused and fascinated.

A brief feeling of at home:
surrounded by eyes
as empty as mine.
Please log in to view and add comments on poems