Behind Blue Eyes (revised)

 

My eyes arenít actually blue

They change with the color shirt I wear

or my moods, a kind of camouflage

that keeps me from revealing too much

about myself, even when my thoughts are dark.

These days, itís not dark thoughts I think,

floating in a haze I donít always understand,

I canít get the Who song out of my head

canít get my eyes to change from any other color

but blue, as if Iíve turned into a bad man in a bad land

my footsteps slapping out the beat as I walk

down streets Iíve walked before, sometimes in my dreams.

people looking at me as if I am the kind of man

they have to keep their daughters away from,

my eyes blinking blindly in the bright sun

vampire-like, as if have no business being out and about

in broad day light, a blood-sucking mad man rapist

prowling these streets hunting for flesh

when all Iím trying to find in these glaring maze

is myself, cursing the fact that I canít make my eyes

any other color but blue

 

 


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