My heart races,
As I slip into bed,
Sleep evades,
The wishful dead.
Eyes are burdened,
Rimmed and worn,
Blackened from regret,
Where the heart is torn.
Not a stitch has been applied,
To repair this tear,
And rest these eyes,
From all the unfair.
It'll stop now,
Hope is always around the bend,
To put this eyes to sleep,
To put this pain to an end.
chyna parker
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/aching-eyes-3/
