Sunday, December 19, 2010

End of the Week| Another Poem

Heather Baker, and My Obsession With Fire


Life may keep us down.
We may continue to seek what we’ll never get,
But never forget that sometimes giving up isn’t an option.
Reasons are fears when we only imagine why we’re even here.


“Just picture her face…
How she talks…
How she walks…”

I can see everything that she is,
Even if she barely knows me.
It’s sad, but
Sometimes I can’t help but feel
That such beauty begets something overwhelming.

My eyes can peer into the layers beneath the detestable mask
She lets others see so avidly.
Such eyes can see the aura that peeks out
From beneath them all.
It tells me that something special exists in her soul.

If only she would knowingly show me the depth that lay beneath,
I could never be so lucky.
All that's shown is the simple view
From far away
Of something that will fade more
As others bring about its decay.

“Just picture her face…
How she talks…”
All I see is
How she walks
So far away
From me.