The Shadow On My Shoulder
There is an angel who sits upon my shoulder who goes by the name of Death...
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Sight.

Sight.

A Poem by Lydia

I'm walking on eggshells,

And drifting through thumbnails

Am I full price or on sale,

Or nothing at all

After giving it all,

Or am I just nothing?

No sense, and certainly no sensibility:

Just the way you wanted me.

I'd give anything for your eyes

To give me that look again,

Let me look through them

Let me finally see

How you really, truly view me.

© 2008 Lydia


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I loved the first two lines.

jkb

Posted 15 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on March 4, 2008
Last Updated on March 4, 2008

Author

Lydia
Lydia

Seattle, WA



About
I'm Lydia. I write free verse. Nature is freedom. My Bird, I am forever changed. Rest in Peace, my beautiful friend. Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginativ.. more..

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