The Staring Contest

Two faces close, eyes locked in place,
a silent duel, a poker face.
No one can blink, no one can break—
a test of will, a battle’s wake.

A twitch of brow, a squint, a frown,
no words exchanged, no glancing down.
The seconds crawl, the room grows tense,
an iron wall of pure suspense.

The stare is sharp, the gaze like stone,
each soul exposed, each glance alone.
A daring grin, a stifled laugh—
is someone close to cracking half?

A blink is death, a drop, defeat,
but soon their eyes can feel the heat.
One starts to tear, the salt begins,
a quiet war, where no one wins.

And as they sit in eye-locked doom,
the world shrinks down to just this room.
A shout at last, “I blinked, you win!”
The laughter breaks what silence pinned.

But in that stare, they both have learned
the fire inside an unblinked burn.
A simple game, a fearless test—
of who could hold the gaze the best.