These eyes
Coffee stained,
Often sweet, often warm.
A facade, but a lie,
Never breaking, never shy,
“Smile brightly” and conceal
A dim light beneath.
A flawless mask, held tightly,
So protected, it never weeps.
Ever being, ever knowing, ever seeing the truth,
Searching souls, through these eyes,
Will these eyes, be searched too?
To hear a pleading voice of courage,
Scream refuge, scream truth!
Will somebody ever get it, or are they just as blue?
These eyes are a window,
A looking glass to the soul,
Shares company with a friend,
Despite feeling so cold.
Can you see it? Really see it?
The light shining there,
Ignore the little draft,
The coldness, you’ll bear.
A facade, but a lie,
Often sweet, often warm.
Coffee stained,
These eyes.
These eyes are mine.
Keisha Morrison
