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137 of 365

The eyes wouldn’t
catch a glimpse
of the world outside.
Blinded by hatred
the colours
didn’t come alive.

The world
settled
as a dark room.

The eyes
couldn’t fathom
the impending doom.

The eyes fought against
sights of pain, hunger,
and wars,
refused to tolerate
anymore cruel facades.

The views within,
were grim too.
But the commotion
outside was too violent
to consume.
At once, or at all.

Forcibly the eyes
shut itself down.
The world crumbled,
the eyes collapsed.
All too sudden,
annihilation
felt very real.

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2 thoughts on “137 of 365

  1. N, the idea of this poem is very powerful but I think if you work on it a little bit more you’ll do it more justice. I know poetry is for many a spontaneous outpour but with a little thought I think there is scope for great improvement 🙂 Ask the old fellows Eliot and Pound! Clean up the tenses in particular.

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