The Monitor Watches

I’ve been visiting for a long time; but these days nobody knows me; But this is not an unfamiliar situation; it somehow seems to follow suit. Perhaps this is all but an optical illusion; or a masked disguise of hidden intentions. A poignant story of love and glory; and tears one parts from broken hearts? Those encrypted depictions; of abuse as a victim; And pains that won't end And will someone say amen. I call it “The eye of the Lady of Refuge;” as it rapidly fills with refuge and refugee. The lady and the tramp or Mack the knife; here probabilities are limitless; But dare not to pull it to you; unless you are a perpetual illusionist; so Rock them and roll them; make them wish that you owned them; But if you chose to be real, here is the deal; With the Eye; hello’s become goodbyes.