Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Untitled #3

Tiny little drops of tears
The hazy view of life
The windshield all misty
Of laughter, it is the secret demise.

Finger prints on the glass
Can't wipe away the mist
Blurry is the shameful past
Painful is the twist.

Through the haze and the frost,
The eyes can still be seen,
Welled up with a distant dream
Glued to the window screen.

Move closer a little
The mist was all to find
Those big dark eyes seemed to fade away
Yet of the untold truth, they remind.


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