When the eyes start to fade
There is hope is sight
his eyes growing tired
In the gentle haze, the world grows dim,
Edges blur, once sharp and trim.
Colors fade like whispers soft,
A cloudy veil, emotions aloft.
Through the shimmer, shadows play,
Moments hidden, slipping away.
Yet hope shines bright beyond the mist,
A clearer path, an urge to persist.
With each glance, a story fights,
The sun will rise, bring back the lights.
So through this journey, take my hand,
Together we’ll find the beauty so grand.
spec-savers will fix your eyes again
Even with glasses, I will love you the same.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (1)
an amazing entry In the gentle haze, the world grows dim, Edges blur, once sharp and trim.... well written