Round yellow eyes
Hangs on my wall with two pins
Hearing my lies,
Seeing my sins.Owl of wood, of dulling brown--
How great to be so wise and
To never utter a single sound
Save for when in anger
I swing your blocky chimes together
Proving knowledge you have not
For even though a sound you did so makeI relish to recall
That a hand of mine it so did take--
Making me the wiser afterall.
Oh, you old wooden owl with
Round yellow eyes--
Still watching my life,
Still hearing my cries.
dedicated to another teenage memory....
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