B

30 1 0
                                    

The girl with the blue eyes. No one notices
But I see
the scars on her wrist. I see
the glassed over look in her pretty blue eyes
the edge of the roof, and her I see
Her pretty blue eyes release pretty clear pearls before she falls
I hear her cry as she tells me
her woes. I see for the first time in a long while
life in those pretty blue eyes.

Sad poemsWhere stories live. Discover now