Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

If eyes be windows to the soul,
Then your curtains long ago 
Down hard on me.
From all that We known,,
About glass houses throwing stones
Breakin’ out and wrecking home
Was not only me.
So while I sit opposite you
Squinting eyes see yours too,
Neither’s not as clean 
As they used to be.
…But could they be?
How wouldn’t it be hard
To see thru the
Pane.