last photograph

dagger eyes in my back stepping on shards of glass this'll be the last photograph i ever look at unsolved mysteries have happened for histories he never drew pictures but was good at drawing blinds death is just life without time and dull hunger pangs attack at strange times forgetting more than i can remember but strange devices capture black and white contrast the naked truth is shy and doesn't like to show its body. occasionally, you'll get a glance. all the light sleepers rise and strive cause effect every action provokes and pokes and rocks the boat profits are often robbed or taken back or given away someone made this unmade bed.