Inspiration is a funny thing. The other day, while smearing anti-wrinkle cream under my eyes and humming The Beautiful South’s Prettiest Eyes, I thought of a poem – hey, if they can write about crows feet why not me? I thought I would share that poem with you now.
The Eyes Have It
My whole life
Is mapped below my eyes.
Bags of sleepless nights,
A line for every laugh,
And every tortured thought.
All my regrets and recriminations
My sorrows and my joys
Writ large,
For all to see.
All comments appreciated, even critical ones (but constructive criticism please – don’t just be mean!).
Confuzzledom 