He stands there, Oblivious to me, His piercing brown eyes, Kind as they have always been, His smile, Soft as cotton, Fixing the world, As it crumbles around me. His voice, Sweet like honey, Calming my heart, As the world races away. His touch, Warm and kind, Stopping my head, And slowing my mind. My words, A tribute to him, And all he is to me, Each word specially written. You see, I'm not oblivious, To what I mean to him, And what he means to me.
©The Pesky Poet
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