Eyes and Broken Windows...

Running my fingers across these corners.
Feeling the remnants of jagged glass fragments.
I covetously eye, the greener pastures.
Promoting itself On the other side of this broken windows four corners.

If the eyes are the windows to the soul,
Then these windows are the eyes to a broken home.
Hollow, looking back at the world like a gaping hole.
A world that's crowded by others, but still stands alone.

Tears bleed from eyes,
Thats cried one cry too many.
Every fight fought behind closed doors of solitary confinement,
Fading resilience slowly Carves the atomic bonds of an already weak family.

Feet scorched with battle scars and sores,
Stumbling along the green mile of life almost on all fours.
Pleading against the wishes of weakness-
"please, Knees don't buckle beneath me"

Beating the dirt and cursing the skies.
Cursing my birth, heart beating inside.
Standing on the verge,
About to commit myself to a suicidal verse...