I don't like how his eyes
Glaze over
When he stares at the tv
Because I know he's not really seeing
He is just looking
His mind barely processing
Monotony and a lobotomy
It kills me to watch him
Watch nothing

Because I'm scared
One day he will look
At a woman like that
With pure interest
That has been configured
And distorted by so many hours
Of waiting for a blank screen
To lighten up with
Pixilated images and fake stories
And he will see her like
He saw those images

He will see the image
Not the actor
He will see the screen
Not the wires
He will see the carcass
Not the soul

I want more for him
Than that
Than wide eyes
Drooling mouths
Empty ears
And ignoring his grandmother
When she tells him goodnight

I want more for him.