Lights Down

My eyes have failed me long, I know.
And Christmas trees have been a blur
Should I not have my glasses on
And sometimes, when I do —

But still: I turn the lights down, and
I sit in wonder of it all.
The memories of what has gone
Just know to me or you —

So many that pass silently,
So much that goes unsaid:
I look into the lights and know
My eyes are turning red

With what I couldn’t stop
Or save, or fix;
With all I had
My stupid bag
Of tricks

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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