- Books, Literature, and Writing
Hey, Blue Eyes, You Lookin at Me?
Old Baby Blues,
Within those beautiful blue eyes, there is a story to be told,
of life's little discretion's, a graceful woman to behold.
Piercing with mystery, as every day endeavours,
to bring out the promise of life, only these eyes treasures.
Witnessing the birth of all those up in heaven,
How little is it worth, to watch the funeral fires of natures number seven.
Beautiful lady, please share with us your tears,
tears of love hiding behind all those many wasted years.
Today the number 54 is now already here,
half a lifetime gone along with all those terrible fears.
Poverty and crime, death of humanity.
Fears of more time to bring another calamity.
Earth and it's glorious riches, are no longer how we see it,
Dark ashes from time to time, blowing with the planet
Do we now believe that God cares for all of us,
or is it just a habit, that we've been brought up to believe it,
Eyes deep with regret at all life has given us,
liquid pools of sorrow, leaving life to grieve for us.
Beauty is so precious, even thou the wrinkles grow,
Old mother nature leaving us out, in the snow,
Dark summer clouds appearing on the horizon,
look at us now, with death and destruction.
Once more those beautiful eyes are staring upwards to heaven,
questions of how much longer will this life be given.