Hi readers. I wrote this poem out of massive hatred and anger for my tennis coach for cutting me off the team. It's a long story. See if you can relate. Thanks for checking it out, and please subscribe and check out my novel, Hearts of Three. :)


"Blind Eyes"

We might as well be strangers

A bare wall between two

For every shot we decide to take

both of us will lose

I don't have a request

I'm not here to glance

But you've looked at me with blind eyes

and retreated without a chance

Suppose I never tried

Suppose we all were weak

Suppose you didn't plan it out

before I got to speak

And maybe I'm not ready

Maybe it's too soon

But your blind eyes tell me

I'm too small to ever bloom

I hate those gleams of yours

They look but they don't see

Past the waters, wild and free

but never straight at me.