Growing up, I had my mother's eyes
They were blue like the sea
My mother called then a gift
A gift given just to me
A God given blessing that allowed me to see.
When I died I kept the blessing for years to come
Then I met my father
And that blessing was forgot
By the time I was fourteen my eyes were of forest green
The splitting image of my dad's
So bright and pristine
As dark as night, and clear as the sky
It was beautifully imperfect
And it was mine
By the time I was seventeen
Everyone would say
I was my fathers splitting image in mind and in face
So though I lost my mother's eyes
Of deep ocean blue
I gained my father's eyes
Of green gorgeous hue
So though I traded my blessing
For a demons gloom
It's still a gift just for me
My God forsaken truth
YOU ARE READING
The Story Of The Red King
Poesía"Our Former King Harold Dawson recites his time as king through poetry" The Red King is a "children's" poetry book taking place inside the world of Hellbent following the tales of Harold Dawson and his past.
