Hand-Eye Coordination

Listen to this story, it might possibly be true

I wont make it gory but enough to interest you,

I once knew a man his name was matthew blue

He sat in a rocking chair with his mouth full of chew.

He spat in a metal can that wasnt very big in size

With a newspaper in his hand swatting away at flies

The closer that you stand to him you'll be soon to realize somehow he can see you but doesn't have any eyes.

He had a boy that lived with him by the name of Tommy tim,

Tommy was a tailor at the age of only 10.

he had sewn Matthews eyelids shut with a rusty safety pin.

And kept him happy with the screams of his rugged violin.

But something wasn't right one night I went to visit them,

Tommy had a book in the floor sitting next to him ,

Folding it to page 24 i began to question him,

Why he was turning the pages but not looking at them.

I turn around and scratch my head at the glance of

Matthews Grin,

I quickly turned back to Tommy turning the page again,

I think it's time that I leave I say to Tommy Tim,

My nerves get shook as he slams the book against the cabins trim.

Why leave so soon you big baboon,

Youre gonna miss the moon,

It's supposed to be full won't that be cool

Have a seat you silly raccoon.

I choke on my thoughts and they turn to dots as I clench my throat again,

Sitting under my socks feels like rocks digging into my skin, little beads of sweat drip from my head down across my chin, A tingle up my spine, that sounds fine I say to Tommy Tim,

The clock strikes 12 sounding the bells throughout the cabins Den, the lights go out, I quietly Scout as I hear the drop of a pen,

They come back on but Tommy's gone and Matthew still where he's been.

As I head for the door there's a note on the floor

That reads this very sentence,

4 eyes look at you, 2 that you know of, the other 2 just wincing, i show what I sow, not just for a show, but some for just convincing, my hands have plans not just for this man, but for others that are visiting so before you go I would like to show what my hands have been whispering,

I slowly turn as my lungs burn clenching the paper like sand, the ink fades and the page rips hitting the floor where I stand, I swallow hard and close my eyes and brace against the nightstand to Tommy tim with Matthews eyes sewn inside of his hands.