There's something missing in these white eyes that are filled with every inch of the world. What left is there to take in but the silent sounds of ghosts moving so softly, brushing against pink ears as the hairs stand up on these cold arms. I'll stand here waiting for you to pass by me and shut my eyes closed, so they finally can be full.

What is this place you talk about?
Grass is greener on the other side
No gray skies and the sun always shines
Animals roam the fields feeling the softness under their feet
Where is the place of greatness?
Stars visible in the night sky
The only noise are the trees talking
Sweet smell of bright flowers fill the air
This place you say is long gone.