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My Eyes
My eyes are sick and poisned,
crooked and aimed to one angle,
I have never forgoten
for I have never looked any other way.
My eyes glazed with emories,
pain seeps through the vessels that cover,
only thoughts of an unlikley future,
push my eyelids to rest.
My eyes fooled by hope,
still have courage to blink,
as I allow them to,
hoping they will save me.
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I feel like somtimes I only look at somthing a certain way, its one of the things I'd like to change about myself. This is about me opening my eyes, dispite the difficulties.