Sunglasses

Placed on your face, looking out upon the skies.

I am a pair of sunglasses, here to protect those precious eyes.

Our journey started by chance, when you lost your last pair of glasses abroad.

At the time you said you were not bothered, they were old and quite obviously flawed.

So into town you came, with some money and good intent.

Searching for new glasses, down each and every isle is where you went.

Until you found the spot, where the glasses hung in suspense.

Waiting to be purchased, these times were honestly quite intense.

Then you saved me from the shelf, at that small convenience store.

I thought I would be there forever, but not one more day, not anymore.

Was it my slim black frame, possibly my polarised lens?

Maybe the reason you bought me, was just to show off to your friends.

Regardless of why you chose me, I am here now for good.

You have treated me so well, better than that awful store ever would.

Since you put me on your face, your staring eyes glistening blue.

I have felt a real connection, the feeling stuck with me like glue.

We share some special moments, on your journey that I attend.

I love to see your grow, even if it was when you had to mend.

When summertime comes around, you clean me and prepare.

For many days out about, no longer locked up in despair.

Now every sunny day, you take me out to see the world.

Up against your face, tucked in your hair of which is curled.

I love to feel the breeze, when you take me to the beach.

Your hair flowing back, blowing far out of reach.

Even in your car, when we are driving through the city.

I take in every single site, all of which is very pretty.

On these regular trips around, I have the best moments of my days.

They will be my greatest memories, forever and always.

But here we are today, where for some reason you are acting odd.

Searching through the house, even found an old iPod.

I see you walking here, and now you are rushing over there.

What are you doing my friend, you are racing everywhere.

Between the couch cushions, and on the coffee table you look.

You found some old coins, fluff, and a previously favored book.

Rummaging In the boot of your car, then under the driver seat.

What could you be searching for, the answer is not yet concrete.

But still you hunt on, like you can not go without.

If only what you are searching for, could talk or even shout.

In the laundry room now, and through the washing basket you go.

Dirty clothes were what you found, what you want I just don't know.

Until you reach the bathroom mirror, I hear you say, “Oh this should be a crime”.

It was me you were pursuing, I was here on top of your head the whole time.