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Cynthia Buhain-baello
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When the eyes see a bird
And the mind thinks of prey
What can't be said in a word
Thoughts will always give away.
When the eyes see there snow
And the mind thinks bitter cold
Not the bright hope of tomorrow
We know more than what we're told.
Perception melts the cover
Unraveling the true feelings
Bits and pieces of character
The core that one has been concealing.
And the last of it is the 'why'
Our Thoughts show what we've stored
From the windows of the eye
Human minds will always record.
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