Gaze

I can see.
I can see the hope in your history,
Limpid, liquid eyes
Luxuriantly framed by your silken youth.
Childish innocence gazes at me
From your captured past.
Your hope for happiness
Plays gently at your lips.

Hope is a future.
Hope is our shared future.
What was your future,
Sweet, handsome boy?
Could you see what lay ahead?
Or did you just hope?