Ice Blue Eyes
What I loved in my youth, has
been soured by time.
I looked back when I was fare,
and my honey was a dime.
Ice blue eyes cut me deep, and
bled my anger dry.
Twisted knots left behind were
golden locks did die.
Never a dull word, nor
moments unaccounted.
And all the precious memories
are hard to be recounted
However now I ask in prayer a
way to bring her near.
From the depth of hell that
seemed, to burn my darling
dear.
Copyright © Damian York | Year Posted 2014
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