They watch you, measuring you, and your soul.
They appraise you, searching for labels, tags.
They sit and stare, determining your 'dole'.
They stare at your clothing, the rips and snags.
Their eyes become darker, peering at you.
Their lips all flinch in synchronicity.
Their fingers squeeze an imagined tissue.
Their eyes reflect a light ever fiery.
I then close my eyes and abide the dew
As it gathers on my eyelashes, observed
By them tasked with dictation of my fate.