The Other
Real eyes
have shapes
we never really understand.
Are made of
water bags not glass,
we never quite know how.
Real eyes
dance on a platform of moments.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
