PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Lifting hands towards the shifting sands

The granules scatter in directions unseen

Creating patterns whose meager demands

Are to be read by an eye that is keen



An eye that senses what is hidden from viewing

Only unveiled unto those whom seek

The solutions to queries which cause the undoing

Of times which never attain their peak



An eye which knows the tales before telling

The morals to stories still yet untold

And the circumstances behind the selling

Of a sainted soul for merely fool's gold



An eye from which pours forth expression

Upon witnessing the trials of us all

Capturing the stilled,unspoken confession

Of the voices too shamed or brazen to call



But so few possess an eye of such splendor

Hence the patterns emerge imagined,unreal

And those hands become brittled and tender

Listlessly dropping to laps which conceal