His eyes were sad, but they were beautiful. A sort of melancholy beauty, where his words were cruel but I saw past his temper and found the sadness underneath.
His love belonged to another, I knew quite well. As he told many times, I had no chance but I didnt care. He was sad and lovely all at once and I loved him...
Now
His eyes are angry, full of ugly hatred. His face twisted and gnarled with the thought that she got away.
Aye, she did but he never had a chance. As she told him many times. He was an angry, ugly man full of hatred and I hated him.
But if I held up a mirror in front of him, it would be my reflection that I would see.
YOU ARE READING
'Nevermore Than A Few Words'
Poetry"Dear god, make me a bird so I can fly, far far away from here." Jenny Curran