Heart Sees Clearer

My eyes have duped me into believing that I have found the one, not once,

but since that sleepless night, it’s been clear that the heart sees clearer than the eyes.

Since my first text – “hey…”, I’ve been making hay, yet her shine will dim by no chance

and I pray that through her heart, she may see my fondness of hers and break ice.

 

It is not my fault that I’m so generous to her with my attention.

Effortlessly, she gets my attention. Wish I was sure that she craves it.

Just in case she doesn’t, then taking coal to Newcastle is my intention.

It’s hard to gag fondness. Trying to reveal my intent and heart beat by bit.

 

Maybe it’s the way her voice makes Billie Holiday’s sound like a rumble.

Maybe it’s her intellect and her interests and how the dove-tail mine.

Oh, I know, it’s how she sees through my hard head, to spot my inner humble.

How can she see that, yet we’ve never seen each other. Even from a mile!

 

Heart sees clearer. Oblivious of her face, her inner splendor is a fact.

Isn’t that what matters? I beg for her; mercy. I swear I wouldn’t hurt her heart.

Advertisements

The Eyes

Another reason to give thanks for the eyes

is that; they always defy plots by the smile

to hide traces of inner hate and despise.

Windows to some souls ooze bitterness than bile

while precious ones are as clean as a newborn’s slate.

Understandably, no one loves everything.

It is absolutely stupid to hide hate,

unless you’ll always wear shades, you’re doing nothing.

Disguised despise is not wise despise for one;

can only sweep dirt under the carpet cloth

till the carpet itself dirties. No one won.

Blatant hate is better hate, better yet-loathe.

As we embrace, you probably think I bug.

Too bad that eye can’t see your eyes as we hug.

Fading to Darkness

I’m afraid I’ve gone from being modest,

now I’m swelling with pride and ego.

Once righteous, all week wore Sunday best,

now hell awaits, while smiling I go.

I was once always sober in mind

now, reeling off heroin all year.

Once bore compassion, orphans I’d mind.

Now, cold as ice, their fear I don’t hear.

Sometime back I was not of temper

and so loving without shame to show.

Now my rage burns like red hot pepper.

I’m afraid I might swing you a blow,

but more afraid you just watched me fade

before your eyes bro, yet you could aid