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Eyes Of Mr D (Part 2)

A few days later,
the newspapers tell the story
of a young woman found on the beach.
She had been strangled,
that is all the police would say.
There were no photographs;
the family had to be informed.

Sadness filled him.
Who was this girl whose death he saw?
The question bothered him.
What kind of eyes was he given?
Where did they come from?
Who was the previous owner of these eyes?

Days followed days,
his restlessness grew.
He had to know the answer,
of whose eyes he had.
Through the years, he had saved
a little bit of money here and there.
Maybe if he hired someone.
He could get the answers that he sought.

He paced around the flat,
desperately trying to think,
what he must do.
He must get some fresh air.
In the streets he wandered aimlessly,
faces became just a blur.
Suddenly he stopped,
and took a second glance.
It was the young woman
he had seen being murdered.
She was standing waiting
in the queue for a bus.

He had to speak to her,
warn her of her pending fate.
He tried to get across the road.
A bus stopped at the queue.
When he finally managed to cross,
the bus had driven off,
and the young woman was gone.

To be continued…….

poem by David Harris
Added by Poetry Lover
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