Writing is a dance where the words are the music and the pen is the instrument.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Blind Eyes
You see a face,
but you don't see me.
Sadness, not a trace,
but you don't see me.
Bleeding under the surface,
but you won't see me.
Desperate for a purpose,
but you won't see me.
You never will know me.
No comments:
Post a Comment