1 Her Eyes Poem by Casual Diamond

Her eyes, forlornly staring as though behind a hundred glass bars, look so weary
They see no more.
For her, the future might as well be a dice, beyond control,
And her past, no world.

Her make up, used to cover a thousand tiny dryness lines, grows brighter
The ritual of beautifying takes a greater and greater struggle,
Her will to do so paralysed.

Once in a while, the curtains of her eyes lift, without whisper,
A pleasing site enters, flows past the restrictive defences,
To her heart,
Withers and dies.