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On the Verge of Innocence
April 16, 2017
Why did his voice roar,
at something so minuscule?
It made our fingers shake.
A smile was about to fill my face,
and my eyes were going to crinkle.
But then I saw her face.
The blackness dripped from her eyes.
Her pink cheeks turned to cream.
The unruly straightened hair that rolled down her shoulders,
was if as if it was a careless child’s again.
My eyes clenched to her face,
as she ran from darkness, that was blinded from me.
And I stopped.
Because,
she was beautiful.
© Alice B., Sarasota, FL
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I wonder why we spend all our time yearing for age, when as everyone looks back we want the opposite.