You just need
fresh eyes sometimes,
to spot the obvious
that somehow
hides from sight.
That's what they say,
but alas,
I read it all too literally...
Little orbs followed me
around the room. Rolling in glee.
My mass collection,
gathered messily.
If only I knew
what they could foresee
from their glass jar,
they saw doom.
The future awaiting me.
When you miss the signs,
when the lines look right
but should be left
on the cutting room floor,
but the cutting room Is
already occupied with feeling bereft.
Your thoughts just soar.
When you miss
a clear error in the text.
You just need fresh eyes, they say.
Well, this grim jar beside me,
and the screaming coming
from my dripping
basement dungeon say otherwise.
It’s all lies.
They scream. Bleeding eye holes
piercing the night.
You just need to listen
with fresh ears.
It may sound better that way,
less like grinding gears.
The shearing sounds ripping tears
from the screaming eyeless beings,
sings a different tune.
Oiled in blood they screech.
Until that sticky residue
clogs the gears and causes
the machine to break.
You just need
fresh eyes they say,
And now I understand that entirely.
My army of eyeless victims,
ripped and tore away
at my grimacing face.
Shredding, plucking
the sight from
it's resting place.
So now I'm down on my knees
but I can still feel
them pawing at me,
and now I finally understand
Thanks for reading
there is no future left to see
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