By Rebekah Sherman
The whites of your eyes
I see behind,
The echoes of a story gale.
An artic sea
Lays before me
And suddenly, I begin to wale.
Remnants of our sunny days
And tropical waves
Have long since been decayed.
As I stand
With outstretched hand,
I wait expectantly.
Giving you the chance,
Would you simply grasp
This limited opportunity?
So few words
Are needed to cure
The deep wounds within thee.
Your artic eyes
Is all I need
To help heal my bleeding heart.
No more the cold, bitter days,
If only you would stay
And allow yourself to heal as well.
As the sun meets the earth,
So too our souls connect
By a few mere words.
Our relationship is restored,
Once an enemy, but now no more!
We are like a picture on display.
The whites of your eyes
I see behind
The gleam of a ray of sunshine.
