The splinter in my
eye, should distort my vision,
However life becomes
clearer, almost to perfection.
The tiny piece of
life’s ammunition
Lodged perfectly,
unmasking all suspicions
No distortion as of this fragment,
Each colour changed,
every pigment.
A wound from the
past, it can’t be removed,
The ability to see,
those deceived.
This splinter a
constant reminder of pain,
Brings a tear to me
eye, an agonising strain.
Wherever I look, I
see through a broken,
world, I hear of
words unspoken.
Even through my new
eyes, i see
My old life, trying
to recapture me.
This splinter in my
eye is there,
The irony is I don
not care!
It guides me through
life’s tricks and turns,
It highlights, fakes
and helps me learn.
Reminds me if needed
I can be stronger
A constant medal of
being a survivor.
The irony is although
it hurts,
I'd never take it
out.
The irony is although
it distorts
I'll protect its lodgings forever more!