465 Victim Number!

My heart sees
The inner sadness
Of 20000 yes,
Twenty thousand
I come to ones door
To help
Just once

But in your case
I have seemingly unknowingly
Made an exception
Perhaps as you say
For the commotion
It may be a false notion
As I am unaware of repetition
I came by a fourth time
Your way
Forgive me dear 465
If by you its OK

We Encounter

Such words of countenance
Dalton you are a poet of substance,
Under your umbrella of metaphors
Lies emotional subsistence,
Camouflaged,
For the discerning eye,
That seeks the lovely messages,
That dost thou reveal.

I make no bones,
When i say
That one day,
Some day
I shall emulate you,
If you may
Perhaps so much
Clearly convey

Green Eyes
You so vividly depict,
The transformation of life,
From a caterpillar emerges
A butterfly
And then she flies away
To help the conveyance of pollen,
From one flower to another
And helps the modes of transplantation

So your poem so explicitly proves
My theory of evolution,
Green Eyes you have some call you
Elizabeth,
They must perhaps know you,
True,
But for me Green Eyes would do.