I have green eyes.
Children with green eyes,
always tell lies
That is what he said.
As he stood over her body.
I knew that she was dead.
Children with green eyes,
He put her in the ground.
Her body, frail and small.
I never made a sound.
Always tell lies.
There was nothing I could say.
When he came to touch me.
Another girl, a different day.
Children with green eyes,
I watched the wild flowers grow.
Never ever doubting.
I knew the things I know.
Always tell lies.
Year upon each endless year.
I watched the wild flowers bloom.
He seemed to have no fear.
Children with green eyes,
I watched over her grave.
And silently I waited
I told myself, be brave.
Always tell lies.
Then one day he came.
An emerald eyed policeman.
Who even knew my name.
Children with green eyes,
He had read the files.
He had seen the truth.
Travelled a hundred miles.
Always tell lies.
To dig a patch of ground.
To hear a child’s story.
To help me make a sound.
Children with green eyes,
I finally found the words to say.
His story was unchanged.
What it was I saw that day.
Always tell lies.
I heard the judge’s verdict,
You know what she said.
Children with green eyes,
Always tell lies.
But not about death.
A Tuesday Latte 
I love the repetition in this- it makes it feel melodic despite the nature of its contents. It’s yet another example of how something beautiful can be about something horrible. This is the kind of writing I’d like to share and feature.
Keep writing my friend.
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Thank you. I was trying to achieve rhythm and pace in a different kind of way. I’m glad you liked it.
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