He can't see the way I look at him,
When he smiles and his eyes go cheery,
When he laughs so loud the ground beneath us shakes,
And my restless heart grows weary.
He looks at me but doesn't see,
The wonder in my modest eyes,
And when he looks away, undoubtedly,
The fire inside me dies.
For people see that his eyes are brown,
But to me they are of a different hue,
They have more colors than any rainbow,
More red, more orange, more blue.
He is more to me than people see,
And more than he can ever assume,
Out of every meaningful memory,
Inside me, a love has begun to bloom.
But alas, he cannot see,
The way I yearn and sigh,
For I am stuck dishevelled on land,
While he is flying in the sky.
He doesn't see the way he amazes me,
With the things he does but I can,
O cruel fate, how you've spited me,
I've fallen in love with a blind man.
