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These broken eyes, cant see your smile
I dwell instead on weeping rivers
carving lines in your cheek
never seen in the youth we shared
this damaged heart, wont feel your lips
flesh as ice on my own cold skin
try as you do, to get through
the years my love, have not been kind
And I, watching as my passion bleeds barely warm away
wipe the beads of your tender loss with chill
reflect on what we once were, and I too, weep
though no salt touches my face
No wet sorrow streaks for you
Only in my soul....does the pain reveal
Who I was
These broken eyes, of blue
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Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. - Buddha
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