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glasses
He left his glasses on the chair,
the second eyes seemed to stare,
A hole threw me and leave me broken,
On the Sunday paper a date he'd chosen.
They have been there since the day before,
My dear old dad walked out the door,
And died upon a table of despair,
a sadden time, no family there.
But now I look and see them there,
So out of place the awkward pair,
I feel as if I touched them they'd shatter,
as if I'm the stranger who didn't matter.
