I see hate, and I see lies

As I look through those Scottish eyes

With so much deception and so much untruth

They seem to fall about me, like old rotten fruit.

The emerald eyes that I once loved and adored

Now through my soul, they have ripped and tore

With deeds they expected and things they’ve seen

Now they stay in my mind, like an un-welcomed dream.

I feel the sadness, and I also feel the woe

As from my soul and heart the pain will not go

No man knows the suffering that I have felt

And no man could accept the hand that I was dealt.

The eyes from Scotland from which I once stared

And loved the world and everyone I saw there cared

But now when I look the only thing I will see

Is now a very sad place and a place without me.

I think of all the glances, and looks and about the past

I know I am not the first, and definitely will not the last

Then I ponder in my thoughts as then I finally realize

I feel sorry for any, who looks through those Scottish eyes.

RANDY L. McCLAVE