Eyes Of My QueenA Poem by Andre Peterson
I hear my name being called out.
And I realize I am still standing there holding the mail. It still hurts to this day and nothing seems to make sense. I hear my name called out again and I finally turn around. There she is, with hazel eyes deep with of concern. I must of frighten her again. I hate how this happens. And she'll never know the true troubles of my heart. How unsure it is. How useless it seems to be. Oh, what a fool I must be. I can't stop looking right through her. Like how someone else used to look through me. As transparent as she seems to be. I question this luck the world has given me. Very curious. Very divine. It seems I am finally seen through the eyes of my queen.
© 2017 Andre Peterson |
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Added on January 27, 2017 Last Updated on January 27, 2017 Author
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