They say
that the eyes are the
Windows
to one's soul.
They say
one's deepest feelings
that dwell, clouded from view;
or betray one's secrets buried beneath a shadowy hue.
They say
one's thoughts of deliberation,
contemplation,
exasperation.
They say
the unexplained
and everything brewing behind closed lids
and fluttering lashes.
They say
the mischievous glint
and the joyous wonder
that can only be caught in the blink of an eye.
They say
one's curiosity that glistens through pristine
Windows
of bright blue, warm brown, vibrant green irises.
They say
the reflected emotions
of choices that are deliberated;
of actions that are made.
They say
the words: unspoken;
the wishes: unsaid;
and
the broken: undead.
They subtly glance around,
taking in impassive faces;
all mysteries that can only be seen through
Windows.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoetryHere's some poetry that I shall disclose. I don't really like to share my poetry (since poetry can be personal) but here's some that I wrote and like. Besides, my English teacher keeps telling me that I should enter them into a Scholastic thing for...
