His Glasses Read Count : 134

Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Through the lenses, I see, eagle eyed, the truth of the environment among me.


I see my isolation as I walk and stare at the ceiling in disapointment.


At night I am blinded by the darkness, yet I feel the breeze of nature enters through my window; the intent of protecting me from the blazing night.


My morning walk, I see the trees poetic movements, the flowers showing off their beauty under the shade. 


Through the lenses, I see the path I walk and the concrete roads that harbor death and hidden blood. 


I see the blood of those who came before me, I glance at the bodies of the individuals who layed there taking their last breath, I stare at the ground of skeletons of those who were buried long ago.


I see my blood escaping my eyes and running down my cheek: 


Why spill tears of blood?


I wish dearly I could cease, but it is a demoralizing task. 


I wish to swim with valiance, but who shall assist me?


Whom shall save me from my own conscious?


Tonight someone will drown and tomorrow someone will be born.

Comments

  • Jun 07, 2019

  • Maurice  Beres

    Maurice Beres

    You can get as much help as you feel you need but you have to save yourself Thanks for sharing 🦋🦋🦋🦋

    Jun 07, 2019

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