OcularA Poem by Ana B. Your hands are
cold Between fire and
smiling In this land of
gold Enough bullets are firing… The cadence of a smile The ghost of a love… It will take a while Till I’ll learn to shove you away. In this game of wit Losing, winning
Is always bittersweet It just means a new beginning… Afraid of this chapter This life written on parchment… Looking through a refractor Is easier than the real measurement…
So take the telescope
And look up into the skies…
To be enveloped
By THOSE watchful of eyes
© 2016 Ana B.Author's NoteReviews
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17 Reviews Added on March 27, 2015 Last Updated on July 9, 2016 Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
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