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Time
by   HYS

Time passes by your feet.
You do not realize,
it is a pair of eyes.
What tells the story
here and there?

Hands are empty,
soaked in a search for fire.
You wash off your dreams,
haunting your steps.

Tell me greenish smiles,
if you were not meant
to come in for a sip of love.
        

Poem ID: 21690   Poem Posted: 10/27/1999
Viewed: 32150  Voted On: 300  E-mailed: 30  Commented On: 1
 
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Copyright , 1999, HYS  all rights reserved by the author.
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