Through the Looking Glass

Winston holds his glasses,

And puts them in his lap.

He gets a piece of paper,

And then the glasses wraps.

…

Damaged goods and useless tools,

That's all that they are now.

Crushed under boot of Reaper,

Crime he can't allow.

…

How many specs are there for apes?

Not many, as he knows.

But that's the price of swinging free,

To brawls that he must go.

…

And so the glasses hit the bin,

The fallen of his life.

And he knows he'll lose more glasses,

While this world knows strife.