The shape of my heart
is blue…
Odd frame of mothers,
and fathers passing by;
never failing to re-write
the history of cubic thoughts…
Shifting patterns
of lensless glasses
always a year behind
the real need of eyes…
The Theoretical Philosophy of Existential Poetry
Theoretical Philosophy and Existential Poetry @RevRDracoAuthor
The Theoretical Philosophy of Existential Poetry 
Seems like years since I’ve seen your posts. Eyes mean very little without the heart.
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Life seems a rather complicated whirlwind for now, but I’d rather not complain 🙂
Nice to “see” you again, hope you are well.
As for the eyes, aren’t they supposed to mirror the soul/heart?
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Yes
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