Where Have They Gone?
The pretty eyes, flush cheeks, an accent upon time,
soft, filtered innocence asks only peace,
where might her looks have begun to land again,
hear in the distance a gentle breeze remain.
We might notice each other again if in the fog
of a morning sunrise, suddenly while our lives
take siesta beyond certain reality, would we then
understand the challenge to love is to let go,
to make room for sudden change, to allow …
I wonder sometimes if it is so simple, and then,
well where do those moments reappear again,
just as today’s coping mechanism handle it,
tomorrow a new sleek anxiety would wallow
inside a dream’s shadowy torment – go away.
If we were alone, beyond the years, holding court,
a laughter that begun the horrific nature of love.
If I might just stand up and walk away from here,
I’d no longer need to ever again, wonder why.
She does have such pretty eyes, I remember her soul,
where then passion hidden allow romantic fire.
Where then …