Why do my eyes, when I cry- turn blue
and faded inner shininess
shines the eyes in lighted brightness?
Why do wondrous eyes have to marvel through

a forging utopian clue,
that leads back to a dystopian mess
and leaves us foolishly doubtless?
Why is it suddenly unfortunately true?

Could I be missing the saw
or am I only losing?
I am addicted to wonder.

I weep on the wrong law
that I have myself been engraving;
me, and no other.