Sympathy

In the darkly lit room Hangs the smell of doom As he babbles about his eyes He seems bent on a mission To paint a bleak vision His elation isn’t disguised! I’ve them aplenty My eyes bloodied In surgeon’s needles Retinal detachment Cataract Glaucoma There isn’t a trauma My eyes haven’t suffered His eyeballs roll On the sclera In perverse pleasure I don’t mind If I go blind, The misery around Doesn’t make eyesight a treasure I haven’t met a man To himself this inhuman Treating the most valued lens With such immense disdains More than my suffering eyes He says in glee undisguised I suffer your cruelty, That’s when you say It’s my way To garner sympathy!