He is broken eyes but can feel

He is broken eyes
Much below the skies
Patches on his arms
Scrapes the skin that touches
Stands alone in the pathway
Where they’re felling the branches
Shedding the ugly traces
Off the shelters of kids
Off the homes of divine
Children prick at its skin
Scratching the ugly burns
Draining the dew
Screeching the scales
Grabbing the sunny ale
Leaving him dry
Simply so sly
Watering no blot
He is broken eyes
Amid dust, heat and rust
Grabs the arms
Of those around
Embraces quickly
Those that are unkind
Those that are kind
‘Cause he is broken eyes
All good ones are
Light in the dark
Light all day
For that touch
Palpus in the rough
Sweetened ties
He is broken eyes
But can feel


Leave your thoughts here!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s