If by chance your eye offend you,
Pluck it out, lad, and be sound:
'Twill hurt, but here are salves to friend you,
And many a balsam grows on ground.

And if your hand or foot offend you,
Cut it off, lad, and be whole;
But play the man, stand up and end you,
When your sickness is your soul.

My eyes; screaming at you, hoping you can hear them or understand them, hoping you wont ignor them while they call out for you, hoping you can hear them spill out everything my tounge kept locked away. But thats all they're doing now. Just hoping and pleading. Still begging for yours.

Don't talk to the wall's they can't talk back, atleast the window's whistle and creek.

There are lessons I’ve learned
In life love and loneliness
Such wisdom do we earn
If we choose paths of mess
I’ve seen when to look the other way,
Tasted the bitter fruit of reminiscence…
Touched the times it’s better not to say
What it is I feel in essence
But of all the above
What I  learned most from love
Was how to hide it away

Because of your friendship
My days are brighter
My nights are calmer
Because of your friendship
My laughter is sweeter
My burdens are lighter
Because of your friendship
Because of you

In the hour of death, after this life’s whim,
When the heart beats low, and the eyes grow dim,
And pain has exhausted every limb—
  The lover of the Lord shall trust in Him.

When the will has forgotten the lifelong aim,
And the mind can only disgrace its fame,
And a man is uncertain of his own name—
  The power of the Lord shall fill this frame.

When the last sigh is heaved, and the last tear shed,
And the coffin is waiting beside the bed,
And the widow and child forsake the dead—
  The angel of the Lord shall lift this head.

For even the purest delight may pall,
And power must fail, and the pride must fall,
And the love of the dearest friends grow small—
  But the glory of the Lord is all in all.