The Unbreakable Stare.

Stare. eye stories

Autoplay OFF  •  a year ago
Sorry, not been in an amusing mood lately :(

The Unbreakable Stare.

A single, blank eye stares at me, Unseeing and unblinking - It's lids pulled back and petrified, Into hard rims of plastic.

The eye has a glaucous colour, And pixels form tiny cataracts on its surface. When we are naughty, we pick and thumb them, To form a rainbow ring on the grey.

Above the eye are two lashes, Monstrously thick and long, Extending like a fly's proboscis, Tasting the air for invisible morsels of light.

I pull on one... Nothing. Ah, I have forgotten to awaken the eye! I twist the warts at the crows-feet to make it blink,

Resisting but finally ceding to my demands, The eye begins to show sights, Pulling the gunky static to its waterlines, And focussing the blurred image.

I see the President, And important man reduced to rubble, Even my child's mind knows the importance of this, Even the eye knows better than to blink.

I call to mother, then to father. They hurry in, She from the kitchen, And he from the garden,

We watch as the eye watches us, Each observing and learning this broken state. I do not know which of us, Is more lost in this dream,

The Oracle, the all-seeing vision, Or its masters, who see far less, Who know little of the world - Either way, we are caught in an unbreakable stare.

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