Ode to My Contact Lenses

Oh, how lucky to be born in the modern era.

Natural selection would've taken me out centuries before.

Perfect vision may be only a chimera,

But I pop you in, some clarity restored.

You've betrayed me before, mysteriously falling out of my head,

Letting yourself be lost to me, right before a long day of work.

After all the money I spend on you, how could you be so cruel?

Or finding a surprise tear on your surface, turning my eyes bright red.

You had one job, you so often shirk.

You know I can't see a thing without you, I look like a fool.

Will you be there for me when the aliens invade?

When the apocalypse begins, and the zombies reign?

Or will you leave me sightless and afraid?

My body merely food, along with my brain?

Some things you do so well, like protect my eyes from wayward mascara.

When you show up for work, your contributions I so adore.

Although your gift is just ephemera.

You've given me the gift of sight, so your imperfections I can ignore.