Douglas Felsch Poet Couplet

The Truth is in the Eyes

The lips can tell a story, or wear a mask of stone,
But the eyes reveal the secrets that the heart has always known.
I’ve stood within the shadows where the light begins to thin,
And watched a dying man look out as the shade was drawing in.
I saw the color surrender, a quiet, fading gray,
As the life poured out like water and the person slipped away.
No words could bridge the distance, no prayer could halt the tide,
Just the heavy, hollow silence of the vacancy inside.

I’ve found the lost and searching, in the cold and frantic night,
Reaching for a tether, or a glimpse of something right.
Their eyes were wild and wandering, tied to a fading thread,
Searching for a roadmap through the static in their head.
In the hallways of the hurting, where the struggling find their seat,
I see them shield their vision from the people that they meet.
They look away to hide the salt, the weight of all the fears,
Hoping no one sees the truth within their heartfelt tears.

But I have seen the flip side—the fire and the bloom,
The lightning of a mother’s love that fills a sterile room.
I’ve seen it in my children, in the deep and steady glow,
The kind of light that only hearts in pure surrender know.
I’ve seen the spark of triumph in the one who stood alone,
Who carved a path of victory from a mountain made of stone.
The gaze is never lying; it’s the mirror of the years,
Reflecting every hard-won joy and all the silent fears.

So let the world keep talking, let them whisper, let them lie,
But the truth is written clearly in the language of the eye.
I notice every shadow, and I keep each golden ray,
The haunting and the healing that I’ve gathered on the way.
For when the shift is over and the city’s finally still,
I see the faces of the past against my own free will.
They linger in the mirror—the lost, the loved, the brave—
Holding tight the memories of the ones I couldn’t save.

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Timothy Ray September 11, 2026 at 8:43 PM I will leave commenting on the lines to those better qualified for the task, and instead wish to acknowledge the thousands of years we poets have recognized the eyes as portals to the soul. In the last few decades, science has verified this and linked it directly to personality and behavior. Your poem exquisitely executes this. You and your quill take a bow. Douglas Felsch September 11, 2026 at 8:57 PM Thank you! I tried so hard to capture the essence here, the spark, and the fire. Im really happy you enjoyed the poem

Andrea Dietrich August 26, 2026 at 7:32 PM Awesome poetry, emotive and impactful. TFS😊 Douglas Felsch August 27, 2026 at 2:22 PM Yeah the story behind this, well I think you know what the first stanza was about, processing loss. but the second stanza was drawn from experience in working in the hospital. (eldercare and ER waiting room) I wished so badly to tell people they were in good hands in the ER but hippa was what it was. I know the poem starts out sad and dark, but in the third stanza I remember clearly my wife giving birth to our three beautiful children, and watching them grow. The last bit was looking in the mirror and seeing my own story. Everybody's eyes tell a different story. Thank you and take care Debra