I Try to Find Faces

I try to find faces in the swirls in marble statuettes,

I try to find love hearts in the petals of a rose,

I try to find warm smiles in the twisted wire of telephones,

And all I find is reaching fingers sculpted into stone.


Sometimes I see him, the cold frozen into his eyes,

Sometimes I see him, fingers twitching, pearly blue,

Sometimes I see him, in the late of winter afternoon,

And all I see is small, sorrowful tears slightly askew.


I reach out my hand and he begs me desperately for hope,

I reach out my hand and his feelings overflow,

I reach out my hand and he glances as he shivers out,

And all I do is walk on by with all my heart in tow.


I try to find truth in the swirls of politicians’ bleats,

I try to find lies in the eyes of starving child,

I try to find joy but it is buried somewhere underneath

And all I find is hearts searching for reasons left to smile.


I try to find solace in my warmth and clothes and food and bed,

I try to find something in my family and my home,

I try to find reasons to ignore the things that we don’t see,

And all we do walk on by with all our heart in tow.




And this is something I have realised has to change right now.




About pasameerday

I haven't got a lot of time to keep you interested, so I'll be quick. I'm a writer from the UK, primarily of fantasy and sci-fi short stories, and occasionally of strange, nonsensical poetry. I like cats, the Sims, and pizza, and I go to sleep to the sound of a keyboard. I've been writing for my entire life; to be honest, I don't think I could ever bring myself to stop. I have a feeling I'm losing you, so I'll bring this to an end before you slowly start to back up, hoping I'll stop talking long enough for you to make a quick getaway. Wait... Where are you going? Hey! Wait! ... Stop!!
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