As a young child,
You looked into my eyes,
Now my eyes are outlined in black,
So you canít see into them.
But even if you could, youíd see,
Like the blood from my body.
I believed that dreams were designed to come true.
I believed in others,
I believed in you.
But now I have the scars to prove,
How much faith Iíve really lost.
One cut for every time you cut me.
Open the wound and naivety trickles out.
Until Iím hollow,
Until there's nothing left to make me stay.
And you look into my,
Already dead eyes,
Thereís nothing there.
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Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack
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