| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
|
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Emotional >> ID #896722 |
| |||||||||||||
|
Eyes sore from weeping,
And still I'm not sleeping, Can't get the pictures out of my head. Can't quite see your face, And just can't replace, And just can't believe that you’re dead. Eyes tired from trying, To erase your dying, You, I just can't stop straining to see, It would fall back into place, If I once more saw your face, What a sight for sore eyes that would be.
© Copyright 2004 Ann Ticipation (UN: annticipation at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Ann Ticipation has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |