Dagger Eyes
Cultured and polished,
so suave and debonair,
You stand amidst a cyclone,
moving not a hair.
You’re quite the handsome fellow,
your lips a wicked leer,
You strike me with your dagger eyes,
and inject me with your fear.
I’ve finally moved beyond you, mind,
to a heaven high above,
far from this dome that you call home,
a prison without love
http://lovestruehome.com/
Copyright © Jean-Pierre Gregoire | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment