The lights have gone down.
The tone in your voice has shifted.
The honey of your eyes is now filled with worry.
Not the kind that keeps the on all night.
The kind that makes you wonder if things will be all right.
You see the despair of others from across the room. But not the one that is looks back at you.
The open letter that has never been read, from the lover past.
Why you let the trivial things keep you from exploring the hopes of the man.
You want the best, but that is not up for grabs just yet.
The time is now, and not tomorrow because you do not know how.
This is the beginning to the eyes that only you can see.