They scooped out my tired hazel eyes
Left alone my too small ears,
Seven weeks worth of collaborated work--
All the doctors and men
Could not put my head together again.
The monolithic watchtower fell into naked ruble,
What a gruesome sight it was.
Nobody seemed to be looking
The rainy morning it came down,
What a ghastly act it was.
With my eyes out of place and infected
I slowly rebuild,
Roaming for stone by broken stone--
Blood and spit mortar--
The watchtower is forming,
Guards still vacant.
I shall have to interview and hire new,
For the formers
Dead or gone.
These uninformed, untrained guards at my disposal
Watch for their every move,
These guards I cannot trust,
These guards I utilize.
Guards in my head,
Grey and green pygmy mushroom men
Outstretched long arms tie themselves to soil.
Within said dry and packed earth I was once buried,
Without shovel or pick
I raised to the surface like floating in water,
Warming sunlight parched my skin.
Absent my eyes, I can't find the site
To crawl back inside hoping to reverse time.
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