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Overused Clichés

Through her eyes,
I see everything.
Through her eyes,
I see the world.

Through the sky,
I see her smile.
Through the clouds,
I see her world.

With my hands a plenty,
I will hide her tears.
With my arms open wide,
I will hold her close.
Without her touch,
I am nothing.
Without her lips,
I’m alone.

She has my heart in her palm,
My mind in her teeth.
My hands have fallen,
She has bequeathed.

Those wintry nights,
The solemn hours,
The stone cold lights,
Without a fire.

I hold myself,
Begging for warmth.
Wanting her touch,
Wishing for more.

With my hands a plenty,
I hid her tears.
With my arms open wide,
I held her close.
Without her touch,
I was nothing.
Without her lips,
I was alone.

There’s nothing more,
I’m unable.
I can’t have her again,
Just trouble.

I am left,
Heart just broken.
With all those final words,
Left out in the open.

Open ended phrases,
Overused clichés.
One word sentence,
Only heard in rage.

With my hands a plenty,
I will let her cry.
With my arms open wide,
I will leave her untouched.
Without her touch,
I am everything.
Without her lips,
I’m contented.





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