Pick up a picture
Of someone dead,
Look deeply
At the eyes.
Dark and distant.
A loneliness of not belonging;

The snatched shot
Seemingly drawing
What you and I
On this side
Can't surmise.
They look knowingly,
They look longingly,
They look right at me.

I seem to think
Those eyes foretell
The coming tragedy.
So I can't stand
To pose for posterity.