Eyes of glass, in the ocean, deep and blue.
Like fabric of white-
worn to grey.
No where in this world are there people to shiver,
yet the people, we live without day.
No morn' to see.
No rooster to crow.
No light to show our way,
yet we as humans',
lives continue,
while our mother's love makes us okay.
There be..
there be..
moonlight..
dear be..
lukewarm water,
so in which it sway.
If I may run,
I may yonder,
for I'm a mere symbol,
a minnow.
To which will force up ponder,
if rather or not,
the fishy is gay.
