They shield my eyes from the
blistering scorch of the sun’s sinful rays;
an invisible barrier in front of my weary encircled eyes,
I use their darkness to hide
from the exposing bright lights.
They are a comforting veil to conceal my soul,
except at night when their function becomes obsolete.
I drag them through my daily life;
what I would do without them, I cringe at the thought.
If without, even for a day,
I would feel unprotected like my cloak of hiding,
my cellophane shield, were missing.
My naked shame would be bared for all to see.
I guard them closely, not because they are expensive,
or bare the evidence of a designer’s hour spent in creation;
their material value is nothing to me.
For the protection they offer,