Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Your eyes

There’s nothing sweeter than the thought of your
   Looking at me with those unshallow eyes,
And knowing that they’ll always see the true,
   Forgiving all the smooth self-serving lies
I tell myself, and all the faults behind them.
   I wish I had your charity.  I tend
To feel regret and blame, and then rewind them
   Into a loop of shame without an end.
But your forgiveness gives me pride—it tells
   Me that I have a worth I cannot see,
And makes a heaven out of what is hell’s
   Claim on my soul: that I deserve to be
      Unloved, unmourned—a soul who never dreamed
      Or hoped—till in your eyes I was redeemed.


Copyright 2015 Matthew J Wells

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