Poet #3- Untitled

SENSE: Sight

 

Your eyes are like sun kissed diamonds, and yet
You have little idea of what that means.
Your world is drunk in all senses except,
Those beautiful eyes simply cannot see.

I’d tell you warmth is like the colour red,
But how would I describe what colour was?
It’s like music and love, staying in bed;
It’s like your senses are causing a buzz.

I could even take you out, stargazing
You’ll feel my hand in the dead of the night,
Sensations we’ll feel will be amazing,
you’ll feel the fresh chill, but won’t see the light.

Yet the irony is - ‘though you can’t see -
That no one but you, has seen the real me.

The End

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