Eyes Poem by Amber Glistener

Eyes cannot prod or poke.
They cannot mock or jeer.
Eyes cannot push me around,
or beat me to the ground.
I wish the world was eyes.

They tell me things about myself;
the things I need to hear.
They cannot hiss hideous lies to me.
Eyes cannot bully to submission.
Only stop and stare.
When staring at these eyes,
it's not just myself I see.
The keeper of the eyes is the one looking down at me.

Are they mad, with a very red, evil glare?

Are they upset, drowned in watery pink?

Are they relieved, white and relaxed?

Mysteries not too far beyond the glass case which contains them.
I've learned to mask my eyes as well as all other emotions.
The deadliest advantage enemy has is your eyes.

I wish the world was eyes.