Treasure Island

James Jarrett

(1963 / California)

Windows to the soul


I realized one day
That my eyes had become hard
My gaze, frosted granite
Hard, like the look of men
Who have seen too much
Killed too much
Been through too much
Just a stare
That says it all
Ice behind the eyes
Purposeful and intent
I see the surprise in peoples eyes
When they meet mine
And look hurriedly away
Or ask if everything is alright
They know the look
And now it even shows in the mirror
And my war
Hasn't even started yet

Submitted: Thursday, June 19, 2014

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Topic(s): war

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