Eyes Of A Poet


I see with the eyes of a poet,
Such pain and heart-break,
But my mouth was always too weak,
To be able to speak…

So I grab a scrap of paper,
And write what I cannot say,
Hoping I can find a way,
To express my feelings that day…

Many understand,
For it seems to speak so clear,
What this poet’s eyes see,
What this poet’s heart feels,
Can only be revealed,
In the shadows of hidden prose,

So I can write about the rose,
Or the beasts which dwell within,
The loss of a friend,
The beginning of the end…

But never tell you with speech,
How much you failed to teach,
That truth is in what you say,
When you change them every day…

This poet’s eyes see,
All your varied lies,
And though I do not say it aloud,
I hide behind this dark cloud,
And write the words of what I see,
Beneath this shading tree,

Casting shadows all around,
The poet that I be,
How sad you think you are hidden from me,
For this damn poet’s eyes see
The liar that you be…