My Poor Eyes
My poor eyes
they're always running
they go much faster than all that of me
to see my eyes is to see the lovely bugs
the ones i crush
and the ones i let fly in my poor eyes
wishing them immortal with their glass wings
i have glass wings
but they move slow
and run me down like gravity
everything i see
it won't lift me
the lovely bugs die with glass wings
i have glass wings
it will be moments until I've been wished immortal