Eyes

This is a poem from an eye's viewpoint.

I am eyes,
my job is to see.

I belong to my owner;
she relies on me for her environment.
I am to perceive one sense of reality for her,
Sometimes what I see my owner doesn't.

If she doesn't focus she misses the details;
and everything I try so hard to show her.

I get rest when my owner sleeps.

I am always looking at pages upon pages of words.
What do they mean?
I see them but... my owner's brain is the only one who knows what words mean.

My favorite pastime is colors.
They keep my job from becoming fruitful.

I want so much to please my owner,
I think that's why I always show her the truth.

She doesn't always want to see it.
I don't like when she distorts what I show her.

Wait....
My owner is fading,

I think I have to go,
Her brain is shutting down.

She's... DYING!

Does that mean I can no longer enjoy the colors?

TEARS...
..The ocean was always my favorite.