At times the journey to be seen has cost me everything, but my eyes.
To be known for something other than nothing was my dream.
Then one day I was notice for something that I never did mean.
Something that would give many hopes and dreams only gave me pain and sorrow.
A hurt that was so bad my eyes could not leave.
My feelings left, but they watch the whole thing.
I never knew what that could mean.
To always want to be seen, but never want to be sought.
To being able to say that was me, turn into wishing I never could be.
Hiding from something that you always wanted so you can just be you.
My eyes are not open.
They cannot see the words on the wall, or the ones that stand tall.
They see everything that far, but nothing that is near.
They take nothing that is given but give everything that they got.
My eyes are looking at my soul and it has no light.
It is a place where the dark has call home.
A place where nothing is stored but hatred and self-doubt.
My eyes cannot see the future.
They cannot see the things that I want.
They only see the things that cannot be.
The things that will never come.
I do not trust them.
They are the ones that I got, so I must take care of them.
These are the eyes that has showed me grace.
The ones that have witness the fruits of my trees.
The ones that have led me to place where I can be free.
My eyes are not always good, but they are mine.