When your gaze found mine, the whole world swayed, As if the earth had missed a hidden beat; The sunlight suddenly grew unafraid, Then melted like warm gold around my feet. I tried to look away, but something stayed, A trembling little universe in you; My eyes became two doors I could not close, And every secret seemed to wander through. I felt my cheeks turn roses in the rain, A sudden fire underneath my skin; The stars began to whisper my sweet shame, While little suns kept blooming from within. Your eyes were not just eyes, they were a place, A strange blue room where gravity was gone; I wandered through the silence of your gaze And somehow lost the person I was on. My heartbeat stumbled, then forgot its name, It ran barefoot through corridors of light; I blushed as though the moon had called me beautiful, Then hid my face from heaven's watching sight. The trees leaned closer, jealous of the view, The flowers opened wider just to see; Even the wind became unusually shy, As thoug...
They speak from tables heavy with bread,
Hands soft from never begging the day,
Calling cruelty order, calling silence sense,
Naming nonsense, the tongue of the poor.
From towers built on borrowed backs,
They rain down laws like cold, sharp stones,
Mistaking hunger for laziness,
And rags for a chosen skin.
Poor orphans wander with empty bowls of hope,
Stomachs singing the song of absence,
Eyes trained to search for mercy
In streets where mercy learned to hide.
Abuse wears gold and speaks with pride,
Its laughter loud, its conscience thin,
While small hands clutch the ache of night,
And learn too early how to endure.
For them, life is an open wound,
No salve, no shelter, no gentle hand,
Pain stitched into every morning,
And reopened by each setting sun.
Yet still they breathe. Still, they stand.
Bones carrying more courage than crowns,
Waiting for a world to remember
That hunger is a normal thing,
And being poor is not a sin.
© 2026 Gloria Penelope
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