Poem -
Glare
Because
it now hurts
so much
to see ..
He no longer
fears
going blind ..
But
nevertheless,
he still
remembers
to this
very day
the moment
his
whisky sour
turned
bitter sweet,
under
the glare
of her
baby blue eyes ..
Â
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Comments
I like to think I see with more than my eyes. I see with my heart and my instincts and my father's eyes and even my mother's.
That's the spirit mate .. tis good to have you in my corner .. and I thank you accordingly .. NevilleÂ
Hi Neville, some kind of acceptance I read here along with a deep deep sadness, life continues to traumatise its victims. I hope you're OK...I've a lot of catching up to doÂ
hugs ❤️
Hello Marion, good to see you my very dear literary friend .. Here's a fella hoping you are well ..
No worries and no rush whatsoever, just take it easy and as it comes .. Spot on interpretations would appear to be your forte .. or at least one of em .. Hugs back & truly .. ❤️
The femme fatale ... or however it is spelt. Love fucking hurts at times. It's a hurt that stays with us forever too ... no matter what ... it stays xx
I'm so glad you felt it .. in a kind sort of way .. I feel compelled to PM ya .. x