I saw your eyes from your face across the room as they rested on mine.
Yours, so brown and bold and cold, mine not used to being seen.
I drop my stare to my mostly empty glass, while we both heard the dying strains of the soft duo strumming.
Do others know of my blood rising in my face? I so wish I could be someplace other? Do you know how you impact me? I need to leave, but my feet feel as stone. Please do not stare at me more.
Habit is my lonely heart, I have comfort there, solace in my few close friends.
I embrace an eclectic life, tastes, and friends. I love to listen to people - to induce speaking of their past. Sometimes, their voices end in my writing. For grammar perfectionists, allow me to apologize in advance, as I write for the casual reader, not the professional. My passions include my family, music, working in electronics, mechanics, stone, and concrete. Better to know a little bit about everything than everything about one thing. Quote from Pascal.
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2 thoughts on “Musings of a lonely Heart”
I do not even know how I ended up here, but I thought this post was great.
I don’t know who you are but certainly you are going to a famous
blogger if you are not already 😉 Cheers!
Thank you. I think passion is its own reward over fame. Like a blind person painting or a deaf person singing, or a single child playing in the fields among the flowers. You do, because you do.
Ramblings from an Unpaved Mind 
I do not even know how I ended up here, but I thought this post was great.
I don’t know who you are but certainly you are going to a famous
blogger if you are not already 😉 Cheers!
LikeLike
Thank you. I think passion is its own reward over fame. Like a blind person painting or a deaf person singing, or a single child playing in the fields among the flowers. You do, because you do.
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