Poem: Eyes Open

From the mouths of despair and the graves of the blind,

the great ones who never were all that good to begin with,

this is where we land when our minds no longer want to operate,

when we feel we don’t exist anymore to anyone, not even ourselves.

From the depths of everyone waiting, comes a loud roar,

passing over cars, around poles, by trains, and countless heads,

it’s what we came to hear from places far, far away,

why we have walked miles and kilometers.

From the toenails that have been torn off,

mixed in some kind of soup or tossed into the waters,

bad luck has not suffered too long in the good,

we wait, patient and nearby, to find meaning not too overwhelming.

From the shallows of our black hearts,

they shall become red and full of pumping energy again,

the thrill of knowing we must learn the unknown,

we must keep our eyes open.

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