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Waking Eyes (a poem)

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Waking EyesWaking eyes againfind you not.Your soft good morning eyes.Your full blossoming lipsawaiting a kissto declare the day as sacred.Even the subtle things,like the imprinted shapeon silken pillows,proclaimingwhere your had had been nestled.These, and countless otheraspects of you,now gone.Gone,as now I am also.My heart and my soul.My anticipation of flowerssaying hello in springtime,or even botheringto look for full moonsor falling stars.These things have become meaningless.Almost ugly.As I sit here alone.Bright sunny skies,yet I am trappedin the blinding glareof darkness.Waking eyes againfind tears for

you. Randy

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