I saw her eyes.
Shined brighter than the coldest nights.
I saw the pain hidden,
In her smile.
I saw the love,
Bursting from her heart.
But I ain't looking at anyone,
I'm looking at the mirror on the wall.
YOU ARE READING
Poems.
PoetryI believe, writing is artistic. Every time you hold a pen, you make art with the ink in that pen, a beautiful drawing. Writing can express a lot, more than you can imagine. Without writing our existences are meaningless. So everyone should take the...
