Learn more about other poetry terms
we are given glasses at the beginning of childhood. we are given infinite supply of: laughter. gifts. smiles. once the glasses break we are exposed to reality. infinite supply of: hatred.
Ode to my glasses Handy, Flexible, They are a part Of me. I couldn’t live Properly without them,
The queen did love red, and so red she wore. There was red in her kitchen, her bathroom, the floor. She prized her red glasses she always kept close, for they made what she saw
My eyes flutter open to a world draped in a haze a sight so unclear and undefined that I am left in a daze. I blink and adjust to the warm light peeking from my windows
I was watching the TV silently When something was glinting right at me from the top of the table it shone brightly So I went to look at this shiny object curiously
Haphazardly beautiful rocks Spewed onto the Ground bright and Safe through eyes of Blue Shade so sweet to eyes of brown red eyes see it Dead, Rustic eyes Move fast and catch a glimpse
I've been searching for a way out of this blurred vision. Among checkups and lenses I watched through pink frames. Instead I am ostracized
I’m short. Really? Are you SERIOUS? I NEVER noticed! Thank you for informing me. I was hoping 5’ 3” would be tall enough to reach the cupboard Without standing on my toes
When I recite poetry, I take my glasses off Not because the glare of the lights Or the nerves climbing my spine like children on a playground No, as I walk onto the stage, each step a mountain,
Everything is different behind the glass
Take off your glasses, the world is a blur. People messed up, clothes on backwards, life is an abstract art- hard to decipher. Stand on your head, everything is flipped.
I snatched my friend's glasses (a habit of mine To peer through others's lenses and see who's blind,) But instead of blurred figures and gray I expected I gained mind-blowing insight on my friend's clear perspective.
yeah, teach, i’m aware i have glasses. i’m also aware of what they mean to you – quiet, shy, high honor roll. it’s not because i can’t see three feet in front of me that i’m in the first row.
Hate. Seems like you can’t function without it. Have your coffee dark roast— Extra bitter. Lukewarm, Grounds swirling in the bottom, --Swirling like those hateful thoughts,