You and I,
Two sets of myopic eyes
Straining to see into the distance
You and I, twin souls
With two hearts in perfect rhythm
As we die trying to describe
To each other, beauty that's indescribable
While at other times we die of despair
To see the same beauty anywhere
The world sees as a metaphor for grieving, blue.
The two of us, we dream of a world
Glittering in that majestic hue
Never have I seen, you in the flesh
That hasn't stopped me, from dreaming
Of a park where I sit, admiring your fingers
Long and slender, sinuous grace
Magical in what they can create.
And yet, my love...
In the eyes of the world, we're not lovers
What is it then, this eerie feeling
What mists my eyes, as I touch
The only blooms I've ever been given
The only verses for me written
When I ache for your words
Spoken or written, why is it that I'm notified
That you at that very moment, are suddenly
Speaking, as you always do,
Straight to this empty, broken heart.
Thank you for reading my poem. Poetry treats the heart like peace treats the mind.