Those eyes
uneasily a storm brews
occasionally a tear subsides
in those eyes
that have witnessed, felt
all the men dressed in disguise
as though a piece of meat, she
waiting to be tried
yet in the end
left to cry.
Sleep has found those eyes
lost in dreams
picking wildflowers
by an unruly stream
like days passed by
without a clue
as to why
time only allows
time to count scars.
So sad. Sometimes the only relief we find is in dreams. 😉
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I agree! This is based on what seen too many times 😦
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