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The crying sunglasses

Jalloh Mamadu
The Crying
Sunglass
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
I never fancied sunglasses, not until my eyes could explain what my mouth couldn't.
My eyes drowned in the pool of their own tears.
How cruel was I to cause my eyes so much pain and keep them behind dark sunglasses.
My eyes were wide open, but the actions that could cause them so much pain, they overlooked.
From my eyes, I saw the betrayal. I sensed it, but the beautiful lie was the creation of a perfect artist that even wowed Michelangelo, that these same eyes convinced my heart it was nothing.
The art on the wall became the very painting that hides the tears of the sunglasses.
Should I blame my eyes or my heart for using the one thing that was not manufactured to fit into my lifestyle as an armour?
Then came the vastness of River Nile that calmed my eyes, dried them up. I put the sunglasses away. The eyes were now more radiant than they had ever been before.
━━━━━━━━  Mamadu Jalloh  ━━━━━━━━
━━━━━━  ◆  ━━━━━━

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