Poems about face

Faceless Caroline square on your breast: it says your name!
Heard them call it out then say Carolyn cause they always think: them's
The same!
YOUR FOOD'S READY! Caroline I heard them good cause I do listen a lot.
I pointed at you and filled you in you laughed got up surprised to find I
Wasn't just full of POT!
Got your food said thanks a lot and your daughter said 'Hey Kafka! ' we
Agreed to love him a lot!
I listened to you speak in a foreign tongue, German it was: it was a very
Pretty German!
Yeah I read your name right from your striped breast and you looked at
Me and sparkled through your glasses I kinda liked it...
Faceless Caroline oh what a pretty face you coulda been anything but
Then you came and ate by me!

The lines in your face
Deepen when you laugh
The tears on your face
Remind you of your past

The way your brows crease
When you think so hard
The way your eyes light up
And you shine like the stars

How you knit your brow
When you are lost in thought
How you change your voice
And pretend to be someone you are not

How your heavy eyes close
When you are ready for sleep
The way your face crinkles
When you try to peek

All so familiar
But it hurts my heart to remember

The face of South Africa
Is a multicoloured face
Hair of various ethnicities
Eyes from blue to black
Many languages, dialects and slang
Customs and culture a kaleidoscope

What is a South African?
Can one really define?
Except by the beat in the heart
Of the one birthed in this nation
Or adopted this as home

White, Black, Coloured, Indian, Chinese...
The list goes on and on...

I am a South African

I dont care about the sun or what it does, beacuse in the end death will love us all, staing to the world by the of wall.

A white palette
Is fine by me
My eyes and lips
Are all I need
No painted face
Or angel hair
No human race
Can make me care
This is me
And I am fine
Don't taint my face
Just fill my mind

I paint a picture of my face
And hide it every day,
For darkness holds a subtle grace,
Where only the fallen lay.

My mind retreats beneath the veil
Of etiquette and blush
Too far away to sound their wail,
My thoughts fall dead and hushed.

I almost lost my grasp, today,
Amidst the daily act,
For to forget the mask would give away
Something too hidden to retract.

The eyes I wear were crafted
By eager, destructive hands,
Determined to mold a plastic
To withstand my soul's demands.

You know me not, my sorry friend,
And hidden I shall stay,
For to open up would bring an end
To the most beautiful facade.

My audience calls out the plot,
As I readily obey,
As my feet drag blood across the stage,
They lament their accolades.

I'm hidden here, despite the light
That bears upon my face
Only to find solace in the night
Obscured by a perverted grace.

Life takes the strangest turns you get blinded by your dreams
And when dreams become a reality you can barely believe they are real
You question yourself to see if it's true, not knowing who to ask who to turn to
But trust the feeling in your soul, the feeling you are now complete

Life is the strangest thing it gives you dreams then takes your dearest things
In moment things change and you can't tell when it happened
Years go by and suddenly things just aren't the same
You can't figure out when things changed you just know they have

Don't waste a minute treat each one as your last
For tomorrow we can't tell what may pass
Choose the life that is best for the ones that you love
Life may take them from you and you will end up in the dark

So if you have to face that darkness you need to do it alone
No distractions to misguide you from the path back to your hearts home
Don't look behind at the what ifs, cause they can't help you now
Look forward and never stop trying to correct your mistakes of the past.

So if it takes your life time to get back your hopes and dreams
Every painful minute she is away will be worth it when she once again is your arms
Never forget what has happened but never dwell on the past.
Because to lose the love of you life from carelessness, is a tragedy that no one can endure.

I feel the shrug of the passing winds,
That gather beyond my solemn place,
Where indifferent birds fly to and from,
With only lost dreams, real as her face.