Make your own free website on Tripod.com

Home

What is love | pretty girl | Me | color me | why you say it | i am | i use to love him | when i heard your voice | devouring beauty* | father | hate parades | lingering | mind blinded | through fallen eyes | you invade | my eyes | TtRrUuTtHh
THE POETRY PAGES
through fallen eyes

If our eyes were bigger imagine what we would see. Things in which we probably wouldn't want to anyway. So then what would be the point of eye enlargement?

Why is it that once we have what we want...we suddenly don't care for it anymore?

The thrill of the hunt. The disappointment I face daily. Lacking in more ways then one. Understanding more then I wish. Pouring my heart and soul out on blue lined paper. Unable to voice my words, only my actions. Heart to heart. Fact to fact. Sheets of silk cover my back. My eyes fall from the sky unable to compromise. I'm hanging from a limb with my hand falling over to the pen. Looking down feeling incredibly low, but what a high. The wind almost blows me over. When you face the fact of my nature and attack for the hunt. Understand that when something is dead. It is no longer alive. Ripped open. Pieced apart. Observed by unwitting eyes, prying into my mind. Save me hell, for the blind. Understand by faith alone. Preach not of the will but of the plenty, see what you may. Not what you might. Give me strength mother Mary. Love
me hope. Kill me faith. All lacking in one way.

By Tiffany Brown