sad eyes are a giveaway

those eyes , red with tears,

I’ve seen them before,

you talk of humanity,

you say such words as unlock.

and this is what it comes down to:

unlocking the box.

and it’s not like it is rusty,

or jammmed,

It’s spring-loaded,

oiled up, yearning to part.

but it is a tumb,

and despair is the prize.

Munchausen me, with tall tales,

but the mind knows the lie,

those eyes are red, but not for truth,

they are shed tears,

of crocodilean quality,

you speak softly,

yet you shout in my ears,

and the insanity I see,

and the hype,

better to tell the truth,

better to take off the mask,

but you won’t do that,

so the box stays closed,

and the lid won’t open,

and all you know of it,

and all you want,

will evade you again.

maybe someday you’ll be ready,

when your eyes are honest.

a