CURIOUS
I see a face staring at me in the darkness,
I can guess it is lined with many-a-trouble,
I can see the dark brown eyes which want to harness-
The love of a woman, in midst of all rubble.
The eyes hold a fear of some distant dread,
They say a story of unyielding agony,
Wasted away are the years, that men tread,
And doom themselves by binding in holy matrimony.
Love of a dear, beloved one is valued very much,
His curious face holds an expectant vigil,
Set firmly are his lips as such,
A radiant expression besieges him, like a man down with measles.
Deep in the recess of his eyes, a fear resides,
A dread of the most common type for men,
Sacrifice is willingly done by one who loves, besides
Being unable to be rewarded, for the emotions that are difficult to pen.
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