You still smile.
Your eyes of teal bluegrace me like tall grass.
The golden leaf can always
be found in your comfort.
I am not the loving kind
yet you have stolen me.
Yes I am full of cracks;
But somehow you see
the light shining through.
Somehow you still smile.
Your hair of silken strands
over by the fluttering pond.
The devils feather likes to
hide when you have my hand.
I am not the caring kind
yet you have changed me.
Yes I do seem rather black;
But somehow you treasure
the colour in my heart.
Somehow you still smile.
Poetry by John Ashleigh
Read 1521 times
Written on 2012-11-02 at 23:13
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