EYE

The eye gazed through the smog-

Above limping people it hovered,

It watched silently the canvas

Of streets, pavements, buildings- tearing.

It stopped. And blinked to protect

it sanity; its lashes laden with bits and bits,

found opening up a difficulty.

Then a hand, weaving like wind,

Put the pieces of broken pitiful puzzles together, and added

some shining colour. The eye frowned-

offended. It had seen the blazing light blow

life into fragments. It had seen...

And bits by bits, the rain fell,

Washing away the washed-away shiny sheen.

Reviews

[Emily]

Wonderful poem!
Great idea for a one too!!
Keep on writing!