​

 

I am fragile, small, and covered in smudges

And I see everything he sees

He never leaves the house without me

I’m the first thing he puts on when he wakes up

And the last thing he puts away before going to bed

 

I am with him for everything he does

I accompany him to his classes, when he puts me on the table 

And struggles to stay awake

I spectate him when he is with his friends, 

Where he tells the same jokes for the 100th time

And I am there when he eats his meals, trying to avoid getting even a bit on me

 

I can feel what he feels

When he’s happy, I bounce around on his face

When he’s angry, I’m put aside so I don’t get hurt

And when he’s sad, I feel his tears, wet and moist on my lenses,

yet the smudges don’t go away