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The Irony
November 1, 2013
Pen eyes of yours are writing,
Writing a song that my heart sings,
A sweet melody that is real,
Only your ears can never hear.
Scarred hand that understands
Tapping my back, when rough is my track
Reaching my hand when I can’t stand,
Drying my tears, washing my fears.
You have brought me a smile
You brought it for a while
That playful funny face
Here in my memory won’t be erased.
What that heart of yours cherish
What that makes your heart foolish
Though, calls me to be sorrowful
Is what dictates my heart to be joyful.
Joy that has taught me to listen
When no words are spoken
‘Cause when you don’t know what to say,
Fret not for I’ll stay.
© Katie S., Vineland, NJ
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