People used to tell me that my eyes were beautiful. Saying that they held the wonder of being powerful.
Though, they never really knew the power my eyes held. Deep inside the hazel color, there was more then just gold sparks swimming around.
There was more than just a black hole in the center. It wasn't filled with darkness on the inside. The inside was a burst of white and blue, swirled into each other like cotton candy.
The white represented the gift to see through more than just glass, through solid objects. The blue represented the gift of seeing further into the future, making me able to see the upcoming events.
It was amazing, to see everything... anything. It was like no other thing on the planet.
But I lost that gift. Blinded by a mysterious person that warned me never to cross the depths of his land again. To never seek for more information than I needed.
YOU ARE READING
Spoken Poetry
ПоэзияThese are some poems of my own. They are about all different things. Some of them can be a little upsetting for younger readers.
