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When your gaze found mine #lovepoem #surrealpoem #poetrydaily

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...
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The Harvest of Your Laziness #sadpoetry #poem #freeverse

It wasn’t real,
that connection you held up
like something rare.
It was only your restless emptiness
reaching outward,
never inward where truth lived.

There was something in you,
a rare kind of wrongness,
not loud, but steady,
growing in the quiet corners
You refused to clean.

Your habits sank deep,
roots of neglect and excuse,
feeding on your comfort,
tightening around any chance
of becoming better.

Inside your chest,
something lingered,
not wounded,
but slowly rotting
from everything you chose not to face.

Your words carried weight,
but not wisdom,
dirty with judgment,
falling on others
as if they owed you effort
You would never give yourself.

You dreamed wildly,
expected greatly,
Yet moved nowhere.
Laziness sat in you like spring,
fresh, alive,
growing stronger each day
You chose not to change.

And so you became
a tree,

Not shaped by storms,
but by stillness.
Not broken,
but unused.

A tree that stands alone,
roots deep in wasted time,
branches stretched with empty wants,
leaves green with excuses.

Alive,
but only in appearance.


© 2026 Gloria Penelope

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