Eyes have a strange way of talking
Telling magical tales,
They travel continents without walking
In mysterious ways.
But sometimes they are not so pleasant
Fear clouds their sight
Black eyeballs shiver like water currents
Like dead leaves on a windy night.
They looked sad and tired
Running away from a cruel world
A world of hypocrites and liars
Who at her curses hurled
And laughed as they heard her cries.
The eyes, they were filled to the brim
With tears glistening like pearls
Tears that cried out to me
Of hope that failed to swim.
She cried because she was sad
That is all she could do
Everyone called her mad
But that was not necessarily true.
“Am I really mad”, she asked me,
“Just because they think so.
But I cannot be happy
Not with what I know.
I know they hate me,
They hate my bloody guts
They talked in whispered voices
Their gossip drives me nuts.
I was a sane rational being,
Till they began talking to me,
Then I started seeing
What so far I refused to see.
This is the world of talkers,
Of gossipers and wily politicians,
Mean neighbours and meaner stalkers
Meanness is their only mission.
Son, you are far too young
To understand what I went through
You do not know what a name is,
It is much more than you.
You build it by the sweat of your heart,
Mould it gently by your hands,
And smile as you warm its hearth
And gaze longingly as it stands.
But this world, this group of animals
They rave and rant at it,
And drive a hammer through its walls
They bring it down .Destroy it.
Now alone through the streets I walk
‘The lone mad woman’.
Because I refused to join their talk,
Like an old mad woman.”
She took her bag and moved on,
Weaving through the streets
Singing a bad tune, an old song
About a man with two left feet.
And all the while people laughed
While she walked on her path
Children made jokes and scoffed
And women spewed their wrath.
I looked around and saw
Man speaking in two tongues
His eyes wily and glancing
Within them the devil dancing
I saw what the mad woman saw
A dying world talking.