a poem | a poetry collection by rareraconteur

Evil Eye

I've nothing to write

Yet everything to draw

The evil eye follows me

Haunts me

I do not rest

For it is all I see

And she sees me

That evil, evil eye

I must sketch her without pause

Day in, and day out

For she will not let me rest

'Til I bring her to fruition

And she may see through me

And become my eye

So I may never escape her

My third eye

That evil, evil eye