My Eyes
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My Eyes
My eyes have seen a lot of pain
Corrupt people of every form
To shut them brings up memories
Memories I have tried but haven’t forgotten
The blood their seen at times brings tears,
Death doesn’t phase them anymore
To sleep with them open is all I can do
Watchful of the door
Cursed forever am I
In prayer the darkness doesn’t creep
The end sometimes I wonder
Would it be better than this.
About The Author
Matty is a 36 year old girl who is an Autistic Poet, Writer and Artist and lives alone in Christchurch New Zealand with a kitty! Matty has given many talks on autism and about being unique in a world that's often not accepting, Matty has also engaged with artist and worked on Art projects Matty usually works on an Art project at the same time as a writing one! This means posts can be a bit delayed!
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