I once again find myself dreaming of your deep blue eyes like one imagines the ocean. They hope to find the calm in the storm of their life, they hope to finally see the simplicity, but they have to be content with their current surroundings. So as I lay in my bed, staring at the pale white ceiling, I again remember when your eyes were the calm to my storm and the simplicity in my life, but I have to realize that I can never have you again, I must be content.
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Poetry Catalog
PoetryThe best part about writing is that sometimes it speaks to you.
