These Blue Eyes

Moonlight drips down the cloak of night
while September's frosty breath dances a waltz
with the tangles of her black hair.
A chorus of oak leaves hums the soundtrack of the evening.
Somewhere else an actor in a photograph
hides his sad eyes behind dark shades and a plastic grin
while he guards a dimly lit room
from creeping shadows of days gone past.
Tomorrow lies cuddled up sleeping,
hiding safely away from the troubles of today
in a heap bubble gum blankets.
He sits silently on a cold step
the taste of quiet desperation steals the words from his lips.
Blades of grass begin swaying to the music,
humming a familiar tune "cry baby cry, make your mother sigh.
You're old enough to know better, so cry baby cry."
The stars join in and begin to dance in the forests of her eyes.
Yesterday loses the fight with today
and the band slowly leaves the dream
dragging their tubas and violins into bed with them.
He closes his eyes and the dream is over...

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