My one good eye no longer sees

As clearly as it once could

It's cloudier than it used to be

And shards of glass have punctured

My once green iris'

Have gone cold and dark

The smoke in the room

Have attacked their youth

The sun doesn't do them justice


The way slow they both move

lids resting heavy with

lashes grown mad and

the brows frowning awkward

over ditches dug under

Filled with dark honest wisdom

Tears that before never gathered

have shown themselves now to light

to my eyes sweet relief

While I cry for the world

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