My eyes aren't an ocean,
Nor are they a sea.
But, maybe, if I let you, you can get lost in them.
My eyes are a river,
Tinted with algae
As murky as the lies I tell
If eyes are the window to the soul,
My soul is dark, with rays of sunshine.
It looks transparent, but you can never find the end.
The river is brown,
Polluted with time.
He who swims within it dies
The fish are long gone.
Their home is broken.
They can never come back.
My eyes hold secrets,
Like the murky waters of a river,
But, maybe, they aren't untouchable.
YOU ARE READING
My Poems - 2018
PoetryNo one has to read this. It's not interesting. I don't really think the poems will be very good, either. (NOT EDITED OR CHECKED FOR ANY GRAMMATICAL ERRORS.)
