I look over at the man
staring silently out the window,
his eyes glazed over and empty,
he is motionless apart from his
slowly blinking eyelids.
Lost amongst his thoughts is he,
who knows what he hides
underneath those dead hazel eyes.
He's thinking deeply, I know,
His face is that of an innocent choir boy,
all innocent and rosy,
yet those eyes give him away, they do.
They are the eyes of a man
who has seen too much
and who only wants to forget.
I leave the bus without a word
and the man watches me go.
his eyes still staring, staring.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
WOW. I really like this Declan. It flows with such ease. It makes you think about things- who we really are. I think this is extremely good. :) keep it up. x Red Skye.