Their eyes, always burn with fear,
And I apologize for not wiping away all your tears.
I ran with the the stars and danced with the clouds,
But did not spot you in your distress,
Was blind to your hurt,
Deaf to your cries,
Now you wither away like today's picked flower,
—but I'm too foreign to mouring,
And others' disgusted looks only grow stronger.
I promised to let you roll around in soft pastures,
And breath into the vast sky,
Though, you are gone now
—vanished; no longer in sight.
So, I leave now,
Strangley shaking and bitting my lips,
—broken down, I believe (wondering what this foreign feeling is).
Is it like a bite of a bug?
Will it ever past?
It seems —even now— days later, something strikes,
Just as I began to run once more with the stars,
And dance with the clouds.
Is it you?
Haunting me,
Taking away my joy for breaking my vow?
To that —my anger burns along with this newly-found grief.
I called out, but you disappeared,
Looked, but no where could you be spotted.
Though, maybe I still am blind and deaf,
And if I am,
Help me to see
—find me,
Wherever I may be.....
