My eyes

Should one worry in this world of true belief

Or shed the tears of simpletons – foretold

The essence of true feelings – taken – sold

To fickle sorts discerning hollow eyes

Choices field the art of understanding

Tolerance the art of love held dear

Pray – be pleased we fall for goodness

Ne’er for bad – for bad be but a lurgy

And sad be but a way to fall to ground

No thoughts explained – no whisper –

Not a sound

False pleasure be but just that – false

Devoid of desire – yet to see or feel

One cannot steal the feelings

Others have and doth enjoy

My love – my love – is all you need

A winged desire – a world’s surprise

Look nowhere else but straight and clear –

Look nowhere else but right into my eyes.

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