Staring down at thee
With big brown eyes,
With hope,
With glee,
Immortalized in the partial eyes,
Of lenses,
That live in pockets. 


She comes
And she goes,
At night 
Crown so red
A crown so bright
And eyes that still inspire,
Though lips and words,
Be not for hire


So sweet,
Just before the street
Swept away with her. 
And so he stands,
On his ass,
Hands clasped before his eyes
Hoping for the good,
Whilst evil deeds be happening 

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