Young Men With Old Eyes Poem by Pasquale DiMeola

Mirrors of the eyes become the windows
Losing the radiant effect once enshrined
Severing the wagging tail from the puppy
Raining on the parades until they cease
Long human chains of shuffling souls
Marching to brass of a deafening silence
Retaining visions on their digital cerebrum
Still following orders from the top
Proudly kept from drawing the thin curtain
For all to peek into a depravity unfathomable.