They say eyes are the window to the soul.
But somehow, I can look into someone's eyes and see the fire of desire.
Or the glossy flash of regret.
I look in some people's eyes and see a plastic case covering the real them, in hopes of fitting in with the world.
And then sometimes, I see wilted flowers, as if the person is collapsing right in front of me.
They say eyes are the window to the soul, but I think some people are too afraid that they don't have a soul to show.
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°Clouded Minds°
Poetry°and there's nothing more that kills you slowly and painfully than your own mind° copyright: all rights reserved