A face embedded in the fabric of time –
Untouched by change, unmoved by the sublime.
Strangled hair – the dead’s actually dead.
A million worries on the forehead.
The eyebrows that don’t raise;
Surprises are rare these days.
Eyes that speak of many a night o’ despair.
Loneliness hits hard. Truth hidden somewhere.
No sweet nudgings of innocence
For the nose that sniffled in silence.
Thousands of tears drank by the cheeks;
Draught has hit. No pity to seek.
Quivering lips whose red was never noticed –
The words they formed died on them unfinished.
A chin that’s buried in the chest –
Afraid to look up and face the test.
This face I wear when I’m alone.
No one to please and on my own.
Artwork by Alexa Meade
whoa.. thats a beautiful portrayal of disappointment, disapproval and distress!
LikeLike
Thank you đŸ™‚
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh what a sentence… Loneliness hit hard, Truth hidden some where…..,
LikeLiked by 1 person
Powerful!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you.
LikeLike
Mind blowing Sam..I hope this is not actually about you…take care..
LikeLiked by 1 person
Isn’t everything we write about us somehow? đŸ™‚ I am fine hon. Thank you for caring.
LikeLike
yes it is…am still glad you are fine đŸ™‚
LikeLiked by 1 person