Eyes
I walk into a crowd
with my head held high,
slightly proud.
But I soon halt
my confident walk
and balk,
because it's a crowd made of eyes,
and my earlier confidence
seems like a pack of lies.
I feel like I'm being hit
by thousands of stones
as the stares of the crowd
strike me to my bones,
and I frantically search
for a place to sit,
because the crowd made of eyes
is calculating,
analyzing,
staring,
staring,
staring,
and I don't know
if they like what they see.
I sit down
in an inconspicuous spot
and become part of the crowd of eyes;
searching, staring, sneaking, peeking, seeking
a new victim.
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