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What I remembered with vivid clarity were your eyes. One eye represented the emergence of dusk after a magnificent storm and the other the break of dawn over a tranquil sea.
I was always  told
About my deep eyes
And it is true, for I see
Depth, in your being_
Inside your soul. Just
One look at your eyes
And I can decipher, the
Plethora of emotions,
Wreck'd, as whirlpools
Rising up, within you
I can see, devastation
In your being,
Of sleepless nights,
And endless trying, to
Put forth a brave face
Dark circles giving you
Away; I can see, clearly
All that you've b'n upto
Brewomble 14h
There are things that we so desire;

Fragments of once could be’s left sizzling next to the wake of an open fire

A sore and unruly rest for those who bare no need to transpose,

A romantics lust for love is as sheer as the daydreamers dream I suppose.

We don’t confide the things that yearn in the hollowed depths of our soul;

That in which age and mature vastly inside us, for that they’ll never know-

And when given the chance one might never give in-

Because vulnerability is best when it’s bared in  hidden.

You can look in the eyes of another and see their truth revealed;

Their words yet still cascade fabrication of a world never revealed

We hide, we squander, in life’s most precious things,

But behind our synthetic candor; we all know why the caged bird sings



~Breanna Womble

2:01am
Sleepless Nights are the poet's prime time
Our eyes speak more than our mouths,
But none of us knows what's true and what's not.

Our faces speak more than our mouths,
But none of us knows what's true and what's not.

Our hands speak more than our mouths,
But none of us knows what's true and what's not.
In the end I think
the pain was too much to bear
to see such behavior coming from someone so beautiful
to see such hatred towards myself
coming from my own eyes,
eyes as lush and green as a forest canopy
at least that is how you described them back then

but your own eyes,
deep blue pools of loathing
for me
for her
for everyone around you,
they tell me what you truly mean.

That my eyes are dull and ugly
and better off looking in a different direction
and that you don't care what I do anymore
nor did you ever care

As long as no one is by my side
and that I do not exist to anyone other than myself

you will be happy
Most poems I write comes from personal experience if anyone cares to wonder. I don't listen to him anymore.
Hannah 1d
As I look in the mirror, what do I see?
A beautiful person looking right back at me.
Staring softly into my eyes,
wondering ever so much about how time flies.
Every night I'm thinking about you,
as I stare out my window at the view.
Those days in the past will always be treasured,
but were sadly too short to even be measured.
I'm looking back on all the good times,
remembering all that I have seen with my own two eyes.
Spooks 1d
Love is a dangerous game
That I don’t know how to play
Sometimes I wish you never came
Sometimes than I think I’d be okay
You have the sun In your eyes
And i the moon
Too bad you spill nothing but lies
Maybe I just let you in too soon
For you are the sun
And I am the moon
Between the sun of my eyes
and the canvas of my eyelids
is the silhouette of you
which I must always look upon.
There is only dead.
There is no gone.
a poem a day... still going
Poems which rhyme are written with rhythm in the ears,
Poems which do not are written with kaleidoscope in the eyes.
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