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through glassy eyes
these glasses
full of lies
sitting apon the cabinet drawer
drawing darkness on the room
echoing the sounds of children that once played on the floor
who now lie with silence
fighting the war for their life
while others just sat with triumph
bruised from the blackness hatred and strife
yes glasses that sit with dusty memories that drift
once saw hate
then backed away
and it became to be known as just a trait
through life these little children struggled
only to live their life troubled
yet they glee at the sight
of living without a fight
these glasses that sit, never made it to see the light
