Your mouth can hide behind a smile,
Your voice behind a laugh,
Your scars can hide behind cloth and ignorance,
But how can you disguise your eyes?
Eyes are windows that open up
Directly to one’s soul, and though
Your mouth, your voice, your scars
Can hide,
One cannot disguise the soul.
But what if you tightly shuttered the windows,
And drew the curtains behind?
Would your soul grow cold and dark and shriveled?
Would the glass grow thick with dust and grime?
If someone tried to peek in on your soul
To make sure it was still strong and whole,
Would they notice the difference?
If given the chance, would they open up
The shutters, the curtains, the locks?
Would they throw the windows open wide?
Or would they simply walk away,
And leave the soul
To hide?
How did you like this story?
Your feedback helps klippy09 understand what's working
@klippy09
Hey, I'm Kelsey :) I love reading, drawing, poetry, photography, playing guitar, and art. I can't live without music. My Chemical Romance saved my life. My favorite color is orange, I think Robert Pattinson made a much better Cedric than Edward, I'm a bit of a nerd, I'm a band geek, and I'm a little shy but very friendly :) Hope you like my poems!
Similar Stories
On The Wings Of Shared Humanity
Sit down and ponder with me life's small and weighty matters. Does the death of a man or beast or flea leave an angels heart in tatters. What if I were to tell you my deepest darkest fears.
To Be Yours.
I don't know where I come from, I don't know where I'll go. I don't know when the sun will come, When the winds lunge to and fro. I don't know how to tell your tale, I truly wish I could.
Some Days
Some days are days full of sharp edges and sudden dips, interrupted flow and disjointed thoughts.
One
I lay back staring at the sky. Hints of grey & blue in between thousands of clouds, all different shapes & sizes, all being taken along on the wind.
I Want.
I want to see what I look like through other peoples eyes. I want to see if they can see what lies beneath. I want to see if they can see what I'm hiding.
It's Personal
What I write is my own decision I don't do it for recognition Here's my confession Just listen... What I write means a lot to me Don't you see.
Insecurity
I ask of you only to conceal my rage, a task so simple, for the world is not a stage. I ask that my pride be served to a lesser degree, for the sight from my eyes, is for my eyes only to see.
If
If I opened the door To my heart and my soul Will you keep it warm Or will it stay cold. If I opened my arms To hold and make you feel at home Will we be one in form Or will you let go.
Comments & Feedback (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts!
Want to join the conversation? Sign in to leave a comment.