A plastic with soft contours , it stares
At my eyes ,balefully from its existence,
Its pride, outcome of seeing too much.
Eyes are love , drooping an ego’s fall
On the pillar of a nose, with two extra
Eyes seeming duplication but not so.
Custodian of seeing ,often a little proud,
It encases glasses roundly, just in case,
Luckily not making a spectacle of itself.
