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Eyes of Woe

Her big eyes
So full of woe
& No one will know
That 17 years have passed her by
None have stopped when they heard her cry

Tears now fall
From eyes so full of woe
Fear and pain
Fill her tears
That fall like rain

Eyes locking
Hands holding
Hearts beating
“Can this be real”
Never knew she could feel

Pain lifts
Tears full of joy
Can this be true?
Can I be loved by this boy?

But all was fake
Tears again fall
Two hearts as one
Once again one heart in two

How could she not know?
Who can heal her eyes full of woe?

Please tell me what you think

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Comments

1 - 13 of 13

  • -Death-s Punchline-
    June 29, 2007

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    This is a sad poem, and I was like that until a little while ago. I loved these lines:

    "[That] 17 years have passed her by
    None have stopped when they heard her cry"

    Beautiful poem, I loved it. Keep 'em comin.'

    jan


  • Procrastination
    May 21, 2007

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    I love the third verse, it pulls the whole thing together. This poem is so well written and heart felt! Brilliant!
    Welldone.
    Emily x


  • my imaginary friend
    May 21, 2007

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    i love it!

    nice very nice your endings are great! i love this one i can really understand what you have writen its very good, great job!


  • Iliad Keys
    May 20, 2007

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    Terrific work here. I agree with how uncommon the word woe is, but you used it nicely. I liked the lines "Two hearts as one / once again one heart in two". Great. I think that the last line "Who can fix her eyes of woe" should use a word like heal or mend or somesuch thing. Fix just sounds too mechanical and impersonal. But that is just a suggestion.


  • 245Trioxin
    May 19, 2007

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    "Eyes locking
    Hands holding
    Hearts beating
    “Can this be real”

    Reminds me of the saying, if things seem too good to be true, they usually are...

    they always are unfortunately. At least...so I've come to realize. No 2 days in a row will be a beautiful spring day, a picnic in a serene setting, holding hands, a glass of wine, a genuine smile, a blue sky...

    It always rains the next day...and not that lovely downpour, or thunderstorm...a cold, blustery, miserable drizzle.

    That's life.

  • distantnight
    May 19, 2007
    Edit | Reply
    wow this is a beautiful piece of work i love it


  • Blue Azure
    May 19, 2007

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    woe..thats such an unusual word now but you used it brilliantly and i liked it. good poem, sad and that second to last verse was the best for me.

1 - 13 of 13