All Is Not Sound

My eyes touch you
for they are so worn
in a way you find sad
at the way we’re torn.

I seek none in return,
eyes that you possess.
Just the way you look
has me to God confess.

Praise the days now,
I cry I’m satisfied true
is the writing on the wall
my emotion is blue. 

Don’t look at me now
for frost chills bone
that is suppose to hold
up logic I condone.

Loved ones leave
up fraught with fear
here now I die like
old loved ones dear.

I curse the curse
my eyes cast down.
Don’t look at me now,
all is not so sound.

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