Under My Sofa

Glassy eyes

People think through a glass wall
They see it all
And that it's true
And maybe they do

But to say they know the full story
All bloody and gory
Well the chance is strong
That they're just plain wrong

See, that's the thing, they see
And what they perceive
(The sensory input their eyes receive)
Is what they believe
Heart on their sleeve

With not a question of caution
Or mission abortion
They just stare through the glass
Like a TV screen
Missing the gaps in between

Oh yes, very logical
Forgetting the jaws of hell
'Cause seeing's all very well

But aren't they forgetting something?
Too readily number crunching
Lacking the data
That would be received later

Yeah. They're too busy using their eyes
To cut through the disguise
And weep betrayed tears
To remember their ears

Because the glass muffles all replies
Silences desperate cries
Makes it easy to believe lies
Rather than hear reality
It's easier just to see

To take what they want
From a visual reply
And not question why.

Glassy gazes beyond a glass wall
Basically trigger nothing at all
The frantically moving mouths
Seemingly make no sound
As desperate waves rebound
Off a glass wall

There's nothing at all
That could make them see straight
Except maybe a hearing aid
Or a large hammer
To release all the clamour

From a silent glass box

***

I am working on paragraphing.

*distant laughter*

Anyway, how is everyone?

I like this poem, though I'm not entirely sure why. It just hits me more deeply than some of the others I've written.

I was going to start rambling on about reflection in there and add a whole other depth to the metaphor, but I managed to cut myself off, so you're welcome.

I doubt it's very inspiring, but if something does hit you, post it in the comments as always.

Alex xxx