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BRIGHT EYES
Bright eyes look out at me
from a jungle of trees.
Leaves rustle in the soft wind
or from some movement within.
I must get out of here.
I can not take this fear.
I am lost in the green see.
This isnât where I want to be.
I left the party to open a closed door,
and here I am about to hit the floor.
Iâm surrounded from each side.
Thereâs no place for me to hide.
A creepy plant is bowing to me.
It wants to take a bite out of me.
How did this party turn to hell?
I can now hear the dinner bell.
Iâm sure it is ringing for me.
Dinner I will now come to be.
What terrific timing…great writing here with a beautiful painting, too!
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I found the picture on tumblr and had to write about it.
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Sometimes the picture speaks volumes!
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And then I add my words to it.
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You have a gift for it, Suzanne. đ
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Thanks. You’re good for my ego.
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