The Physiology of Revenge

I have often wondered why

The orb of an eye is

Shaped like a world

How it weeps like

The ocean tide

How it lights like

The sun when

It sees the ones it loves

And yet manages

Not to store the hatred

As our hearts do

When the wrong doers

Have had their way

Perhaps it is because

It is a lens but

Not a camera.

So next time

You take an eye

For the eye you have lost

Dissect it,

Search the Cornea,

The Iris, the Aqueous Humour,

I promise You

You will search

In vain, and in

That search be lost

© Bernard Pearson