A pair of eyes sees all,
but lacks the mouth to comment.
The skin around them is stretched taut,
left unable to relax.
Above the eyes
an umbrella is held up
to protect from the woes of life,
but it is only large enough to cover a single entity.
Trying to escape from their prison,
rings of memories and dreams
fight for the will to float away,
but are held stuck by the horrified eyes.
In this awkward state,
hot tea hangs on threads.
It’s the only sympathy the eyes can give,
if only it could blot out their own empathy.
Arms below reach out clawing
and hold the umbrella steadfast,
to the old tree of life.
a tunneling wall,
strong as stone,
holds all inside
like a maniacal pressure cooker.
If you are unable to see the attatched picture, look at it on the main blog.