color
when i see hats,
i see bardering.
bardering for tourist hats on the side of the road,
they're all the same.
just different colors.
when i see different colors,
i see rainbows.
trails in the sky for the lucky ones.
but only for the lucky ones.
when i think lucky,
i think march seventeenth.
when i think lucky,
i think march seventeenth.
when i see march seventeenth i see green,
and green is her favorite color.
when i see her favorite color,
i see her eyes.
the eyes that sting of her youth,
and stretching her neck,
just to see mine.
but mine don't have color.
mine don't have youth.
mine don't have the hope of the future,
the warmth of the past.
my eyes are towards the ground,
and my feet are to the sky.
but for her sake,
i hope her eyes are always pointed toward the stars,
and her feet on the ground.
i hope for her sake,
that innocence never becomes experience.
when i see her favorite color,
i see her eyes.
the eyes that sting of her youth,
and stretching her neck,
just to see mine.
but mine don't have color.
mine don't have youth.
mine don't have the hope of the future,
the warmth of the past.
my eyes are towards the ground,
and my feet are to the sky.
but for her sake,
i hope her eyes are always pointed toward the stars,
and her feet on the ground.
i hope for her sake,
that innocence never becomes experience.
4 comments
"that innocence never becomes experience" this line <3
ReplyDeleteTHIS <3 <3 <3
ReplyDeleteInnocence never becomes experience.... I love that
ReplyDelete"my eyes are towards the ground" so good you are amazing
ReplyDelete